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spacemonkeysalsa · 1 year ago

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Appetites

Five years ago the Vampire Ascendant Astarion helped save Baldur's Gate. He has everything he ever wanted, and he's miserable.

Isolde is nobody, and has nothing. When given the option to become a vampire spawn, her response gives Astarion a moment of pause; “No. Thank you. I think I’ll just die.”

(Angst and fluff and smut) Changed up the format because it was starting to look so silly with 20+ chapters.

Check it out on Ao3 from the beginning or jump into chapter twenty two below the cut.

If the last few days had Isolde feeling out of her depth, then there was no reason that the present situation should be an improvement. But, she checked her heartbeat, her breathing, and examined her feelings and found that she was no longer panicking, no longer on the edge of drowning. She felt a little guilty about the whole thing, actually. Astarion’s life was falling apart, and somehow, her presence within it was contributing to that, but she felt a kind of relief. This might be the extent of the punishment that Mephistopheles had in mind. It was only then that she realized that she had been expecting something much worse for him. In comparison to the possibilities, being fiend-marked was manageable.

She did feel guilty for that thought, though. Astarion wasn't able to take this optimistic view, and why would he?

He knelt on the floor of the ballroom, clothing in tatters around his changed body, concentrating and failing to transform, either into one of his typical animal shapes, or back into his true form. Every moment that passed and he was still in this new, fiend-marked form was clearly agonizing for him.

Alice kept the gith child at an educational distance. Close enough that he could still see the master, but far enough away that he wouldn’t feel threatened by his very presence. She was whispering to him quietly, and he was nodding, so Isolde imagined that some reductive explanation was in order.

Leon and Aurelia were closer, but speaking in hushed tones that Isolde couldn’t catch a single note of. She didn’t see guilt in their countenances. Good. They shouldn’t feel guilty about any of this, she decided. It was his doing, in the end.

But, she still wanted to help him manage the consequences, if she could. Just because he was responsible for what had happened, didn’t mean he deserved it. She didn’t know what she could do to help, but to start, at least, she decided that she wasn’t going to keep her distance. Even if this new form made her uncomfortable, she was going to endure it.

Except, she didn’t feel uncomfortable with it at all.

It was tempting to attribute it to her childhood with Vovka, but honestly, Astarion and Vovka still didn’t resemble one another, even now that they shared some specific hell-touched attributes. Being in Astarion’s presence didn’t feel quite the same as being in the presence of a cambion. He was still himself.

And, even on a purely aesthetic level, the differences were stark. Vovka’s horns had been lacquer black and smooth when he was younger, drawing in and pointing high above his head like a wicked crown, and as he’d gotten older, they started to split with yellow and orange lines of infernal light, like molten lava, cracking through that smooth exterior, especially when he was upset. By the time he ran away from home, they were almost always burning bright through the tips.

In contrast, Astarion’s looked more like a sort of horns she’d seen on some of the humble tiefling citizens of Bladur’s Gate; they resembled white, unpolished bone, carving in more of a halo arc, and running parallel to his pointed ears in a way that complemented the angles of his elven features. His skin remained the bloodless, vampiric shade of pale that she was used to, though the sclera of his eyes had changed to black as pitch, and though the irises remained red, the new contrast seemed to add a sheen that hadn’t been there before. He also didn’t seem to have quite so many of the extra prongs, ridges and vestigial claw-like nubs that dotted Vovka’s skin. His tail was ridged though, that was a little different, and with a subtle lean and a swerve of her eyes, she could see that the ridges continued up his spine to the nap of his neck.

The strangest thing was his wings, and his back.

The scars that his master had carved into his flesh were no longer in their original place, instead, the marks were distorted and stretched across the reach of his leathery wings. The infernal glyphs were huge, and now, easily exposed and readable.

He flexed his claw-like hands and then fisted them against the ground with a crash of frustration. “Godsdammit,” he lamented in an almost imperceptible whisper. Another failed attempt to take control of his own body, and transform back.

It had only been minutes, and so Isolde was not ready to write off that possibility, but it seemed unlikely to her that Mephistopheles intended for the change to be anything less than permanent. At least, on some level.

Tentative, but determined not to leave him feeling worse, or abandoned, she scooted nearer, placing herself directly under the shade of one arced wing. He looked up sharply, sensing her, but he couldn’t quite lift his eyes.

She thought about telling him how very handsome he still was, but knew that wouldn’t make him feel better, even if it was true. The point of being marked as a fiend was not to lash one’s vanity, but to send a message, not just to the soul being punished, but to everyone who saw them. And the message about Astarion was clear, red, and written in angry infernal on his new wings. He was bound. Mephistopheles had him in his collection: a new monster.

“Why would he believe that you might try to go back on the deal?” the question slipped out from between her lips, thoughtless at first, but in the silence that followed, Isolde did think, and decided that the question was a very good one, though she might already know the answer.

Astarion finally met her eyes, and she read pain and shame and fear in them like she’d never seen before. “Because, even if it’s not what I intended, there must be a way to reverse the rite of profane ascension. I haven’t yet done anything to take any of those souls back from him, but… if it’s even possible.” His voice went toneless, and he managed to remark on the seemingly impossible task with no passion, even as he declared, “It must be possible.”

Isolde nodded, that’s what she had been thinking as well. Mephistopheles was warning him not to mess with the parameters of the deal, because, as with any deal, there was some way out of it. But, it appeared that it was not as simple as using a few scrolls of true resurrection on the victims.

Still. It might be something down that same path.

“If you knew how. Would you?”

“I don’t. I don’t know,” Astarion said in barely more than a murmur, and it wasn’t clear whether he was simply reiterating that he had no idea how to reverse profane ascension, or if he was saying that he didn’t know if he would even want to, if it was possible. He seemed to pick up on this ambiguity as he watched her face, and with a sigh he clarified his explanation, “I don’t know how, so there’s no point speculating—”

“—for the sake of pointless speculation.” Isolde pressed him.

His wings dropped, his shoulders slumping as his head tilted, almost crashing into his own chest with the new weight of his horns. “I suppose it would depend on how difficult it would be, and what it would mean for me,” he admitted. “Becoming a vampire spawn again would not be desirable. I’d never see the sun again, be limited in how and where I can live. The hunger would rule me again,” he winced at that last thought.

“But it still depends?” If it would only bring him inconvenience, and if he’d already purchased what he wanted from hell, why even entertain the idea?

“Well. If it wasn’t such a huge amount of trouble,” he groaned, “I suppose—not that there’s much hope for it,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes, “honestly—I’ve known for a long time that the best afterlife I could hope for would still be faithless and lost. But. That might be better than whatever is fated for me now.” But his gaze flickered to Leon and Aurelia, softening ever so slightly before he steeled himself and looked back at his hands, frowning, perhaps at how growing claws had positively ruined his manicure. He tsked.

“And if it’s very complicated and difficult? Likely impossible?”

“Well, it must not be impossible, if he’s this worked up about it,” Astarion gestured to himself in such a way that the last of his torn shirt flopped over his wrist and he flicked it away in annoyance. “But. I’ve had a few years to get to know myself, and one thing I have learned is that the longer a plan may take me to execute, the more likely it is that I will get distracted or lose interest.”

“Or, despair,” Isolde wasn’t sure why she said it, and she kept her voice quiet, but not so quiet that Astarion couldn’t hear her.

His gaze was hard on her face. His jaw clenched over his fanged teeth. “Yes,” he said the word in a clipped, dangerous tone. “Or that.” If he was angry with her, he fought it off, and when he spoke again his tone conveyed only concern, even if his words were harsh. “Now you’ll see how fickle I am. Just last night I begged you to stay, but you must see now that your plan to leave the city was a wise one. You should pack your—my things and go.”

“No,” Isolde said flatly, because for all his bluster, she didn’t believe that was really what he wanted.

“I think that I can land you in more trouble than either of your former horrid masters.”

“Undoubtedly,” Isolde agreed. “The hells already know I’m here with you.”

“But if you run—”

“—consummate predators,” she stated grimly. “The devils see us as things to be exploited or consumed. As I am, I’m in reserve. If I run, I incite their instincts to chase.”

Growing up, Isolde was firm in her stated beliefs that there was nothing inherently evil about her brother. Unfortunately, Vovka himself often advocated the counterpoint. He’d confided in her about the drives he had, many of them dark and destructive, and aimed at himself as well as those closest to him. He’d once said that he never saw someone run without feeling the urge to chase them down like a dog.

Astarion was gazing at her like he wanted to argue, but for once he didn’t seem to have words.

She leaned in and caught his mouth softly with her own, taking him by surprise, it seemed. He didn’t so much lean into the kiss as she felt him resting his forehead against hers. His hands found her fingertips, and as though overcompensating for the new claws, his touch was more tender than usual.

Aurelia approached them, tugging Leon’s wrist and dragging him along, and glancing back as if to present him. She waited, looking at Leon expectantly.

With a sigh, Leon admitted, “I can probably put together some kind of glamor. It will take a little time though. And money.”

If Astarion heard him, he didn’t seem to comprehend what he was saying. He nodded, but his ascent felt mindless to Isolde.

“I can see to Alice and Barnes and your little ward,” Aurelia offered, “if you need to take some time.”

Again, Astarion’s main form of acquiescence came only through silence.

He let his siblings leave him, Aurelia leading Alice and the gith child away as well. Their shoes were still clicking on the ballroom floor when Astarion finally gathered up enough will to say something in farewell. “I don’t regret it,” he declared, voice filled with the gravel of defiance.

Aurelia acknowledged him only by glancing back over her shoulder without slowing her stride.

Alone again, Isolde thought that she would be glad to spend the rest of the night sitting here with him while he failed to work it all out in his troubled mind. She wasn’t sure what she could possibly do to help—probably nothing much. But, his efforts to send her away aside, he didn’t want to be alone, of that much, she felt certain.

Heavily, Astarion began to lay back, tentative and awkward with his movements. He winced as his wings spread flat, his back arching and the tips of his horns clicking on the floor behind his head. “Oh gods. You really just can’t lie on your back like this, can you?” he sighed, “even if I could find a comfortable, folded position for the wings, or tail, the horns won’t allow it. So much for sleeping as a hobby.”

“Vovka always had to lie on his stomach,” Isolde recalled, “he didn’t sleep much either though.”

“...Perhaps some kind of neck splint.”

“They sell those for tieflings,” Isolde tried to remember where she’d seen them, or at least which vendors she could ask about the item. From a practical standpoint, these were problems that had solutions. He could use Leon’s glamor, or various temporary spells to change his appearance back, even if his true form was indeed, forever altered. Again.

And that was the real problem, she realized, with a pang to her heart. The issue wasn’t a practical one. It was a matter of emotional turmoil. A reminder that his body still wasn’t his own.

After a few moments, Astarion gave up on his attempts to find a comfortable position on his back, and struggled a little to sit up again, accidentally pinning one of his own wings as he tried to find purchase with his palms. He glared at nothing in particular.

Somewhat invited, and somewhat intruding, Isolde’s thoughts turned back to moments just mere days ago, when they’d made love less than a few yards away from where they sat now. Everything had seemed so complicated at the time, but looking back, those were surely the very simplest of days. The palace had felt so empty, and their time together was entirely dictated according to their own devices. And gods, had they ever spent it well.

That could easily never be the case again.

A low chuckle from the shadows made her start from her dreamy recollections. If Astarion too was startled by the sudden appearance of an on-looker, he only expressed it through another aggravated sigh.

From the far corner of the room, shrouded, a long body unfurled itself from dark leathery wings. Isolde’s denial only lasted a few heartbeats, but for an instant, she was certain that it was any monster in the world other than her own lost Vovka.

She might not have recognized him, if she hadn’t already spent so much of the day remembering him and recalling the details of him. He was so changed.

That Astarion deemed his height inconsiderate made perfect sense now that she was seeing him in the flesh. Vovka wasn’t larger than a human man could be, but she couldn’t immediately recall having ever seen a man taller. The horns and wings enhanced this impression. When she’d seen him last, they'd been roughly the same size, and he’d been wiry and lithe rather than muscular like he was now. His hair was long now, piled back off his face with the sides shaved lower, but still, undoubtedly long when it wasn’t tied up. Their parents had always kept it cropped rather short for convenience and because their mother wasn’t convinced it couldn’t catch fire from his horns when they sparked and smoked. His face was grown, and more than ever before, his bones made him look like their father, and her guts twisted at the implications. She’d speculated, as had others, that the mortal parent was not the one who carried the child in her womb, but that her mother had only been used as a forced surrogate for their father’s indiscretion. His maturing features seemed to confirm that theory.

His eyes were different from how she remembered them. Like Aurelia, and now, Astarion, the sclera was black, but his iris was not the wreath of flame she remembered, there was a cool, bright light to them, nearly a flat white straight on, though even as she thought this, the sheen and the angle of his face sparked red, then yellow, then purple.

Though he’d announced himself with a laugh, there was no hint of amusement on his face. He approached at a worrisome pace, gradual, like he wasn’t quite ready.

“I honestly didn’t know what he was going to do,” Vovka offered, cocking his head at Astarion, and then she saw the amusement, but it was fleeting.

Whether or not they should believe him, Isolde decided it didn’t matter. She couldn’t imagine a world in which anything anyone thought about it could sway an archdevil. She didn’t even realize she was on her feet until they had carried her directly to her long lost half-brother. She charged at him, still in a debate with herself over whether she should strike him, embrace him, or perhaps some combination of both.

It the end, she only managed to come to a halt directly in front of him, just inches before she might’ve wrapped her arms around his waist, or her hands around his throat. She looked up at him, and for the first time she ever remembered, couldn't read his face. “I looked for you. Everywhere.”

“A waste of effort.” Vovka informed her curtly.

“It was not.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, seemingly trying to create a barrier between them, and now, for some reason, she could bring herself to hug him. First, she grabbed his arms and untangled them to his visible discomfort, and forced him into an embrace. She’d forgotten how warm he was. Of course, it was the fires of hell, so the longer she stayed close to him, the more painful it would become, and she released him mere seconds after he started to relax just a touch.

“Should I leave the two of you to catch up?” Astarion managed to infuse his voice with a little of his old bravado as he rose to his feet.

“No,” Isolde and Vovka said in unison.

“Too painful,” Isolde clarified.

“Too much trouble. Not in keeping with our family tradition of avoidance.” Vovka cocked his heavy brows.

“Precisely,” Isolde agreed with Vovka’s cynical correction.

“So that’s it?” Astarion seemed to welcome a momentary distraction from his own drama, at least. “Two decades of estrangement and—”

“—more than that,” Vovka grumbled, “time can pass in hell according to its own metrics. I might be older than you are now, big sister,” he seemed amused by the idea, but it made Isolde feel despondent in the extreme. He gave her the slightest reprieve from his so familiar and yet so different gaze, and turned his attention to Astarion instead. “You know, the Erinyes used to be regularly mistaken for aasimar by mortals. Big feathered wings and serene countenance. But, they traded all that for cloven hooves and more bestial features.”

“By their own leave?”

Vovka laughed at that, “when is it ever?” he shrugged. “I can teach you the spell to take on your old appearance.” he added, “no charge,” just at the moment that both Isolde and Astarin started to open their mouths to ask about the other end of the bargain.

Astarion regarded him suspiciously, but after a moment said, “thank you. I’d appreciate that,” slowly.

“It’s going to hurt. A lot.”

“There it is.”

Vovka sauntered over to the spot of ballroom floor that was severely scuffed from where the githyanki’s woman sword had connected with it, and drew his boot over the marks absently. “It’s not perfectly reliable, and it's not going to be something you can use all the time. It might take you years to get a decent number of hours out of it.”

Isolde remembered vividly how frustrated he had been when Vovka was a child and couldn’t maintain his human form long enough to spend any substantial amount of time outside of the house. It was a kind offer, but freely given? “Will he be unhappy with you? For helping us?” Isolde asked, foregoing the temptation to just thank him. Leon’s glamor might be safer, less likely to cause trouble, if only because it came from Leon.

Vovka gave a shrug that said for all the world he didn't give a shit if Mephistopheles was unhappy with him, but Isolde knew better. They all did.

“Why help me?” Astarion asked bluntly. “Feeling impervious?”

“Apathetic,” Vovka corrected. “They want me to keep close? Keep watch? They know how this works. Why bother sticking to the shadows when a soul is already bound? If anyone asks, I can turn the question around and wonder at what methods they would use to keep you close and beholden to hell? Offering help is usually more effective than threats when dealing with mortals. Even devils out for their first harvest know that.”

His blunt delivery and deadpan tone was a bit chilling to Isolde, but Astarion’s mouth lifted into a sharp smile for just an instant. She could have sighed audibly, of course, he'd find that reassuring. Astarion desperately craved compassion and understanding, but could never quite accept those things when they were offered freely. He was more comfortable with artifice. “Independent contractor, you said?” He asked, contemplative.

Vovka groaned. “Slipped out. Bad joke.”

“But you're not one of them. Beholden to them yourself, I gather.”

“I’m just a cambion. I can serve an infernal purpose, when it's demanded of me, or I can be a light snack for Tiamat.” He shrugged again, this time with a little shudder through his wings that suggested that was less a casual example of hell’s cruelty, and more an anecdote. “I’ll serve.”

Astarion stole a glance Isolde’s way. She wanted to read it as conspiring, at first, but decided after a moment that perhaps she simply needed to get used to reading him with the newly blackened sclera. Astarion looked away after a moment, lips pursed before he reasoned out loud, “They’re just using you too.”

Vovka furrowed his brow a little at that, but not like he didn’t understand. More like there was nothing more obvious in the world.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 astarion #astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #ascended astarion #baldurs gate 3 astarion #baldurs gate astarion #appetites #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction

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meetmyothersouls · 3 years ago

Note

Timmy having really bad baby fever and reader finally caves in

I’ve been waiting for one of these!!

Swell

Warnings: some smut at the end, breeding kink??

Your sister came to visit you from Texas. You hadn’t seen her or your nephew in 2 years since you moved to New York permanently to live with Timothee. You missed them terribly and you buzzed with excitement the whole week prior to their visit.

When they arrived you hugged your sister tightly and picked up your nephew and spun him around. He had just turned four and it looked like he had grown a whole foot since you last saw him. He giggled wildly as you twirled with him causing you to giggle in return. “Oh, I missed you so much, Bubba!” Your nickname for him since the literal moment he was born. You looked over to Timothee, who hadn’t met your sister or nephew, “Tim, this is my sister, Rachel, and this is my nephew, Jace.”

“Nice to meet you Rachel,” he said giving her a hug. He knelt down to Jace’s level, “and Jace, it’s REALLY nice to meet you, buddy.” He ruffled Jace’s hair causing his nose to scrunch. “Aunt Y/n, is my best friend!” He told Timothee proudly. “Oh she is?” Timothee asked looking up at you smiling. “Well, I know she loves you, very, very much, probably way more than she loves me.” He winked as he said it, causing you to roll your eyes.

Timothee couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you interacted with Jace. You went from coloring books, to story books, to playing hide n’ seek and ‘the floor is lava’ and each time you glanced past him, his eyes were on you and he was smiling. Around 2pm, Rachel went to lay Jace own for a nap leaving you and Timothee alone in the the living room. You took this time to pick up the toys Jace had laying around. You startled as Timothee snaked his arms around you from behind. “I have to admit,” he leaned his head down to press a kiss into your neck, “I love seeing you this way.”

“What way?” You asked, confused.

“Just, I don’t know, the way you act around a kid...I’ve never seen this side of you before. Honestly, it makes me want to have one.”

You spun around, “I’m sorry, what? A kid? Tim, that’s a fucking huge, HUGE, responsibility, and way more work than just playing with them.”

“What, you wouldn’t want one? A baby with me?”

“No, no it’s not that. I mean I would...I think, one day...maybe.” It wasn’t something you’d ever thought about and it definitely wasn’t anything you thought that Timothee was thinking about.

Later that night, after dinner was had and everyone went to bed, you and Timothee were alone yet again. You finished washing your face and climbed in bed. “You know,” he said idly rubbing your collar bone, “I thought about what you said earlier, about a kid being a huge responsibility.” You eyed him cautiously as he talked. He paused, waiting for you to interrupt, but you didn’t. “So, I was thinking, what if that’s a responsibility that I want to take on? What if I want to start a family with you?”

You took a deep breath. This was not the conversation you wanted to have before bed, or at all. You turned on your side to face him propping your head up with your hand, “I’m just...I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet. It’s not that I don’t want a baby with you, I’m just selfish.”

“What do you mean?” He looked at you, he wasn’t mad or upset.

“I mean that I just want you to myself a little while longer before I have to share you with another person.”

“That’s fair,” he said as he kissed you and pulled you into him for the night.

Rachel and Jace’s stay quickly came to and end and before you knew it, the week was over and they were packing to go home. Timothee hadn’t brought up making babies anymore for the rest of that week, but he kept admiring your interactions with Jace and smiling to himself.

You said your goodbyes and shut the door as they left. You pressed your back to the front door and closed your eyes. Timothee sat on the sofa across the room. He was looking at you when you opened your eyes and he smiled as you walked toward him and sat in his lap. “You gonna miss them?” he asked.

“Terribly.” You gave him a peck on his lips that lingered there and turned into a deep kiss that you hadn’t been able to give him as often this past week. “I was thinking though.” He pulled away, waiting for your thoughts. “That while we necessarily don’t have to try for a baby, we could maybe not prevent one and see what happens?”

“Really?” he whispered close enough to your face you could feel his breath against your skin.

“Really. We could even...start not preventing it now if you’d like,” you said as you leaned back into the couch.

He lowered himself over you and said, “You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that.” He slid his hands under your shirt and over your bra squeezing your breasts lightly. “I’ve been dying to fill you with my seed, and watch your belly swell with my child.”

You’d never heard him speak like this, but fuck did it turn you on. Some primal desire in you needed him to fill you and it made you wild. You let him come inside of you 3 times that night and you didn’t think twice about it.

Tags: @imnotoverlyobsessive @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @scentedkittenperfection @fashphotolife @chicchanelcigs @timotheeisthelomll @mxciscastleintheair @weasleytwinscumslut @lovelyrocker @taylors-folk @marvelmaniac2000 @divine-1

#timothee chalamet #Timothee chalamet imagine #Timothee chalamet x reader #timothee blurb #writing #smut #timothee chalamet fic #timothee chalamet x you

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astaroth1357 · 5 years ago

Text

Demon Brothers React to MC Getting Kidnapped by Lesser Demons.

Watch out for minor first half spoilers!!

Lucifer

Kicking himself because he has to find out through Mammon that the MC is missing and he didn’t notice their absence himself.

The second the alarm gets raised he gets into a state somewhere between coldly rational and extraordinarily furious.

Definitely still level-headed enough to rally and organize his brothers for a search party but there's nothing but seething rage just rolling off of him the entire time. Probably-could-have-made-another-Satan type rage.

How well he keeps his composure will be based entirely on how long the MC is MIA. The first hour or so will be mostly put together but past that he'll start to slowly unravel as the panic takes hold.

At one point he even gets snippy with Diavolo over the phone and that's when you KNOW that he's reaching meltdown mode.

If he's the first to find the MC, his #1 priority is to get them away from whatever scum grabbed them and take them to the closest safe place he can find. He'd scoop them up so fast they won't even know where he came from, just whoosh! How'd I get on this roof??

Only once they're out of harm’s way will he circle back and deal with their kidnappers personally. You better be sure any damage done to his human will be reflected a thousandfold back onto their attackers. Probably coming back to the MC with some blood on him and is not going to care.

Relieved to have the MC back but restricts them from going out alone after a certain time now for their own good. If they need something that badly, they can come to him.

Also strings Mammon up by his toes that night for losing them in the first place.

"By the time Cerberus gets to you, I'll be sure you're only my table scraps…"

Mammon

The first to notice that the MC was being oddly quiet (thank their father for his text spamming habit) then found their stuff scattered and abandoned at RAD.

Told Lucifer right away and, oh boy, he is a mess: talking a mile a minute, punctuating his sentences with expletives, on the verge of tears, whole nine yards.

He left his human alone for what?? Like five minutes, if even, to go to the library and get themselves kidnapped?! What kind of guardian is he?!?

Already searching the place top-to-bottom without being told where to go or what to do.

He actually ends up a strange inverse of Lucifer. While Lucifer will start panicking more over time, Mammon will start panicking less as his fear escalates to all out anger. Give it a few hours and he’s not even going to be able to keep his demon form under control anymore.

You know this boy is legging it across the entire Devildom himself waving around some kind of hand-drawn "Have You Seen This Human?" flyer looking for any leads at all.

If he were to find the MC first, his first action would probably be to plant his foot right in the face of whoever took them. Hard. Then repeat until their skull’s a caved-in mess on floor. No mercy this time, just pure protective rage.

Following the fight, you'd think he was just reunited with his lost puppy. Lots of crying, hugging, and blubbering out apologies even when the rest of his brothers show up.

Would pretty much be glued to the MC's hip for at least a week afterward and makes more of a point to hang off of them in public now. They're his human after all, can't have anyone else getting the idea of pulling a stunt like that again.

"MC!! What'd ya go runnin' off for?? We're goin' home after I take out this trash, got it!!"

Leviathan

Wouldn't really want to believe it at first because it just feels too unreal, like, the same thing happened to Henry in Episode 86 of TSL when he was kidnapped by enemies of the Lord of Fools and it was up to his true friend to track him down…

Suddenly remembers that Henry was also tortured while he was taken and that really sets in the panic.

Unsure of how to help at first because he knows he's just a useless shut-in but Belphie of all people is the one to remind him that he does have one big advantage over his brothers: a fucking navy.

In an act of surprising backbone, he more or less demands a full fleet of ships from Diavolo and (honestly to his shock) he gets exactly that to comb the Devil’s Sea while looking for MC. Lotan even helps out!

If he were to be the first to find the MC (presuming they are indeed on a boat or something cause 🤷‍♀️) those kidnappers really shouldn't have challenged the third strongest brother in his natural element, eh? Those who aren't automatically lashed in the face or flung overboard by his tail get hung by the leg over the edge of the ship for Lotan to pick off one by one.

Sails back to shore with MC booming with pride that he of all people finally got to be their hero! Will literally be so happy if MC ever brings it up again, doesn't matter how much time has passed.

Things would settle back to normal pretty quickly after that, but he now checks up on the MC a lot more often and will even leave his room for them if they need to go somewhere and don't want to go alone. Can't have this turning into a rerun, you know?

"You hurt my only friend… So drown."

Satan

One guess how the Avatar of Wrath took the news. It's not swimmingly.

Unless your definition of "swimmingly" is a murderous rampage of toppling furniture, breaking windows, and swearing to curse right about anything that moves, in which case aptly put.

He gets stuck in an anger-induced tantrum for a bit before finally getting snapped back into coherent thought by Belphie and putting those mystery novels of his to good use. Smart boi takes second to Lucifer himself in the search, suggesting good locations for his brothers scout based on what clues they have to go on.

Of course, he's not content to just to call orders from the sidelines and is out searching himself like he's on the goddamn warpath. Doors? Who needs doors? If anything the hole I made in your wall is more efficient.

Should he be the first to find the MC he would coolly and methodically subdue any kidnapper he can get his hands on, release his human, and bring them home as soon as possible. They've been through quite enough today and don't need to see anything he's got planned for the bastards later.

But the second that Diavolo puts them in the castle dungeon, you best bet that Henry 1.0 is going to the LEAST of their worries. Who's ever wanted to play a life or death game of hide and seek with a giant snake and the incarnation of Wrath itself? First one caught gets the "quick" death! Any volunteers?

Might give the MC a mild scolding for going out when they shouldn't have but otherwise is just happy to see them back and safe. May act extra soft towards them for a couple days, just until the nerves of the situation finally wear off.

"Don't mistake this for mercy. I assure you, I don't know the meaning of the word."

Asmodeus

Highkey freaking out, like, almost as hysterical as Mammon when he hears the news.

Being the Avatar of Lust, he of course knows there's a whole lot of creeps out there in the world and he is utterly terrified that his poor MC has fallen victim to one at that moment.

For once, all thoughts of himself and his looks are out the window. What? It's past 2am and MC is still gone? I can stay up another hour! Dry shampoo and a washcloth counts as a shower, right? Who the fuck cares, where's MC?? Somebody find them already!!

Pools his contact list with Satan's and starts reaching out across the whole Devildom asking for people to be on the lookout and offer tips. Also begs Solomon to use his magic to help in the search (which he's more than happy to do anyway because he cares about the MC too)

If he were to find MC first it'd be one of those rare cases where he'd be seen really truly enraged. No cute banter, no playful flirting, just telling those worthless scum-vats exactly where they belong and exactly how he's going to put them there. Is it any surprise that he's also madsick with a whip?

Crazy relieved that MC is free, but now it's on them to help him clean up and get back to his prettiest self. I mean, he worried himself half to death while they were gone! All this dirt and sweat going to take three, no four, bathes to fully clean off!! Best hop to it~♡

"Touch them one more time and I'm going to set fire to whatever landfill trash like you crawls out of!!"

Beelzebub

It can't be happening. It honestly can't be happening. First he loses Lilith and now MC?? He can't lose two. He. Can't. Lose. Two.

Pretty much the mantra going through his head as he tears the Devildom apart with his bare hands.

It's 1000x worse than how he gets when he's hungry because at least then he might stop when he finally gets fed. Now it's either find MC or wait until he collapses from exhaustion and hope he doesn’t leave the whole realm a smoldering crater before he gets that far.

There's no reasoning with him either, the best the brothers can do is steer him in a direction and let him loose.

If he found MC first he probably wouldn't even realize it for a bit, he'd just keep attacking whatever or whoever is in front of him on his path of blind destruction. It'd take the MC literally flinging themselves at him or throwing their arms around him to snap him out of it but then it's back to sweetheart Beel.

Hugs ensue. Really tight hugs. Probably a few tears and apologies too (even if it’s not really his fault at all).

Woe to anyone who tries going for the MC once he’s sure he has them because they WILL be broken then eaten. He’ll encourage his human not to look, but some things just have to be done.

Would absolutely carry MC back home and refuse to put them down until the others force him to. The floor may as well be lava planning on taking them away from him too.

Wouldn't care as much about personal vengeance as his brothers as long as MC is safe. He'll trust that his family will more than punish the kidnappers (though chances are he already took a chunk or two out of a few of them during his rampage anyway).

Protective instincts up by 100 after this, though Belphie usually steps in and eases him back a bit when he's about to get suffocating. MC never travels without a buddy now, ever. He just can't risk it.

"MC, I-I'm sorry… I just couldn’t lose you too…"

Belphegor

Keeps the coolest head of all the brothers on the outside, but there's a cold fury building up in those eyes.

Pretty much takes charge of whipping everyone back into gear with a combination stinging remarks and heavy duty guilt tripping. May not be the nicest method, but it's effective.

"Asmo, grow a freaking spine and do something useful for a change! Mammon, this your fault to start with so you ought to be breaking your ass to find them! Satan, watching you is getting embarrassing, pull yourself together and think like you're good at it!"

His harshest criticisms get saved for Lucifer (big shock) but he only dishes them out when he sees his older brother really losing his grip or teetering on losing hope. If the “mighty firstborn” can’t keep it together then why should they even listen to him in the first place?

When he's not administering "motivation," he's keeping tabs on Beel's progression through the Devildom and trying to minimize the damage there. He's the only one that can get through to him long enough to change his course if necessary.

If he were to find the MC first, well, unlike Satan he doesn't have the forethought to save the torture for later. It's happening right here, right now, and you better bet that being the last born doesn't stop him from being a force to be reckoned with.

Waits with the MC for his brothers to catch up to them and deal with any stragglers. May cuddle with them and look like he's trying to take a nap in the meantime, but in truth he's still very alert, on edge, and ready to absolutely wreck shit if anything gets too close to them.

Though it doesn't look like his lazy ass goes through the same protective streak as his brothers, he's a lot quicker to try and convince the MC to stay home now. No out and about=less chance of getting nabbed. Plus he keeps his favorite pillow, win-win. 😏

"What about your worthless lives makes you think you deserve my mercy??"

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #shall-we-date-obey-me

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angel-anoetic · 4 years ago

Note

Hey! 🌿 here, fist thing, you are really gathering an audience now! I'm so proud of you for that. You definitely deserve it. Now for the request but, how about one with Punz were you guys weren't even friends it was just the benefits, and someone takes one if readers canon lives and Punz just /flips out/. Thank you again, you're doing amazing!

thank you so much 🌿 anon! i really can't believe how far i've come so fast. you were my first anon, and i am forever grateful for you trusting me with your requests!! enjoy the fic, i did imply it was kinda spicy, so i hope that is okay- enjoy!! <3

Don't forget to like to save, reblog to share!

c!Punz x gn!Reader - Heavy Minds

genre: /rom, feelings come to boil

warnings: reader death, implied violence, implied nsfw (nothing explicit)

masterlist <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had never considered you and Punz to be friends. Quite frankly, neither did he. You and the merchant had met by chance one day when you and Karl needed some gold. You had tagged along, as you'd never met him before.

"Hey Punz! I was wondering if you could help me."

"Sure, Karl, what do you need?" Karl began to explain what he and the fiance's needed for their new establishment while you poked around the chests that sat in the tower. Then, you went up through the levels and explored what each had to offer.

You were going through a chest on the third floor when you felt a body behind you.

"Dude, Karl, this guy has a lot of shit."

"Yeah, well, this guy has a lot to do." He scoffed—crap, not Karl. You turned and were met with blue eyes as he stared you down.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to come off as bitchy or anything." You gave a small laugh that wasn't returned. He just stared at you, his face void of emotion.

"What are you doing anyway? Snooping around my stuff?" He moved you away from his chests with his body, rummaging through it to make sure nothing had been touched or taken.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, "Like I would ever want any of the crap in there." You could feel your emotions getting the better of you, but it was infuriating how he was talking to you like you were just an inconvenience to him.

Something about your tone must've ticked something in him because next, you knew, you were stood against the wall of Punz tower, his arms resting on either side of your head. You both stared each other down, both refusing to let down your guard. Finally, his eyes drifted from your eyes to your lips, licking his own as his hand moved from the wall towards your cheek, caressing it softly.

"Y/N!! We have to get going!" You were snapped back to reality by Karls voice calling from below.

You cleared your throat as Punz backed away from you. Later that night, you went back, and it just continued from there ever since.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And that's all you both expected. You'd go over, or he'd sneak into El Rapids, then the next day, you both would carry on with your day like nothing had happened. Sure there were lingering stares, some late-night conversations, but nothing that could ever hold enough substance.

And that's what it was until today.

Sam had shown up at El Rapids at dawn and refused to leave without you, claiming that he had to discuss something of business. He didn't tell you that the businesses surrounded a claim that you had stolen valuable property from the prison.

The old unit where he had kept Ponk ( the day he lost his arm) was still standing, so that where you stood, in a box that Sam had locked you in without any weapons or armor.

"Sam, just let me go! Why would I steal from you, especially since it has to do with the prison!"

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but you know that I am going to need a confession or proof that you're not guilty."

You hit the glass of the box and groaned. "Do I look stupid enough to steal from you and the prison? Really Sam!"

"I don't know, but nonetheless, you might be stupid enough to do it."

You huffed and marched towards the bed that had been set up in the room.

By this time, a few people had started to gather a bit away from where you and Sam were. So not only was this aggravating, but now it was humiliating.

"Y/N, I need something. Now. Or...I'm going to have to do something neither of us wants to happen."

Punz stood watching as Sam talked to whoever was in the box. He walked over to Bad, who had been watching the whole thing unfold.

"What the fuck happened dude?"

"Language. Sam said that Y/N stole something or messed with the prison-I'm not really sure. But it doesn't look like they're getting off scot-free."

You turned back to Sam. "And what are you gonna do about it?"

"I tried to warn you. I'm sorry Y/N" There was a click of a button then a sudden opening in the ceiling.

"Sam, what is that?"

He remained silent. The heat in the room grew. The smell was one you recognized from years of mining, years of visiting the nether.

"Sam, no-no!" Your hands couldn't do enough damage to the windows. The walls that held you in were too strong for your bare hands. The lava hissed against the ground, mere inches from your feet.

"Sam!!" The tears fell fast, the lava inched closer at your skin. Some pops hit your bare skin, sizzling, making you scream out more.

Punz rushed over at the first screams. He looked at Sam, who stood stone-faced.

"Dude, what the fuck! Get them out of there!" He pushed Sam, who stepped back immediately.

"I can't. Until I have proof or a confession." Punz looked back at the box, tears starting to fill his eyes.

He ran to the glass, placing his hands against yours. "Look at me!"

His voice was muffled, but you could still understand him. "It hurts! It's so hot, Punz!" The first inches of lava hit your feet, making you let out a strained scream.

Punz turned back to Sam. "What proof do you need!?"

"Some stuff happened around prison three nights ago. If someone can vouch for them truthfully, I'll know I was wrong."

"I can!"

"How?" Sam scoffed.

"Because...because they were with me. They stayed the night at my place."

Sam looked confused. "Are you lying? Do you-" Another heart-wrenching scream pulled both your attention to the box?

One second you were there; the next, you were gone.

Punz's heart at that moment broke. An unworldly pain shot through his chest.

"You killed them."

"I took one life. They'll be back soon. And free now that you've vouched for them."

Punz didn't need snarky comments right now. He needed to let his pain be known. So he stood up and tackled Sam, knocking him to the ground.

"You son of a bitch! What the hell would you do that!" He threw one punch which Sam narrowly avoided, then another, which caught Sam at the perfect place.

The punches refused to stop. Everything was almost in slow motion for Punz. His fist hit Sam relentlessly. Sams mask was beginning to crack from the blows. He finally pushed Punz off of him.

Punz stood tall as he pulled his crossbow from behind him, pointing it directly at Sam.

"Don't!" Bad rushed over, pointing the weapon towards the sky as the arrow left the weapon.

"He needs to pay-"

"No!" Bad stood in front of Punz. "Stop. This solves nothing. What you can do is go find y/n. Make sure they're okay. They won't be here, more likely at El Rapids. Please, just go, before you end up in more trouble."

"Bad..." Bad's eyes said it all though. Punz knew he was right. Sam was groaning on the floor, desperately trying to hold his mask together.

"Thank you." Punz whispered to Bad before running off towards the direction of El Rapids.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

this one was kinda...long lmaoo, sry i haven't gotten punz requests for a bit

#c!punz x reader #c!punz x y/n #punz x reader #punz x y/n #dsmp x y/n #dsmp x reader #dsmp imagine #dreamsmp x reader #dream smp imagines #dream smp x reader #mcyt x you #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #🌿#🌿 anon

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alliedbiscuit · 4 years ago

Text

msr fic / s7 post-closure but pre-all things / wc: 3398

Scully takes Maggie out for a birthday dinner, and you'll never guess who they run into.

************

“So, how are feeling about dessert?” the waiter asks hopefully.

Maggie Scully scoffs. “Oh, no. I couldn’t eat another bite. Maybe just a cup of coffee? Decaf, please.”

“Mom, are you sure? You should get dessert,” Dana Scully prods, stopping herself short before she could let it slip, “It’s your birthday!” The last gift her mother would appreciate is a gaggle of underpaid waiters singing some public-domain-compliant version of a birthday song while the whole restaurant turns its attention toward her. Like mother, like daughter.

Well, the daughter made an exception and found that kind of thing charming exactly once. But at least she got a nice keychain out of it. All her mother would get was humiliation and a chocolate lava cake.

As soon as the waiter leaves to fetch their after dinner coffees, Maggie reveals her true intentions.

“I was thinking we could go to that ice cream parlor down the street. If I’m going to indulge, I think I want a hot fudge sundae. Or maybe we could split a banana split?”

“Or you could get a hot fudge sundae and I could get a banana split, and we could split both,” Scully suggests.

“See, that’s why you work for the FBI.”

“Dessert Conflict Resolution was part of my training at Quantico.”

Both Scullys giggle.

“Does Fox have the same specialty? Or is that what you bring to the team?”

“Mulder’s dessert strategy is just to eat everything and then swim a mile and run five the next day. No, he’s a Takeout Menu Marksman, though. He knows where to order from and what to order so it travels the best and doesn’t get cold and congealed by the time it arrives. Might sound like a trivial skill, but it’s a lifesaver on movie night.”

Maggie continues smiling but cocks her head slightly. Dana realizes why almost instantly.

“You have movie night?”

“It’s not a set thing or anything. We just…if we’re not busy with a case.”

“You just watch movies? As coworkers?”

“As friends.”

“Just friends?”

Dana lets out a long sigh as she stares her mother down. Her mother, maintaining that gentle yet challenging grin. Dana considers her response carefully. She could offer a simple yes because that is the fact of the matter. They are just friends. She could criticize the wording choice. “Just” friends? Why does it have to be “just” friends? As if friendship isn’t somehow enough or isn’t valuable?

She could realize it’s her mother’s birthday and she’s the only other Scully woman left to confide in about matters of the heart, and although she doesn’t want to bring up the New Year’s kiss because she still doesn’t really know what it meant, maybe they both need this little gift of honesty, filled with tempered excitement and promise.

“For now,” Dana Scully finally admits.

Maggie’s grin grows as Scully just shakes her head and manages to keep her slight eye roll from reaching embarrassed teenager level. The waiter does bail her out a bit by choosing that moment to deliver their coffees.

“How is Fox doing? After his mother…” Maggie trails off, but her daughter knows not to expect any more specifics.

“Better? I mean, as well as can be expected. The thing is, right after that, he found out some more about his sister. About what happened to her. It was just so much all at once. I was really worried…”

Maggie reaches across the table to lay a hand on hers.

“But, it was almost like he was ready for it. He finally had some answers. Like it brought him some peace.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Yeah. He needed that.”

“We all do.”

*************

Maggie is the one to spot him first as they’re heading for the door.

“Is that- is that Fox?” she asks her daughter.

“What? No, he wouldn't…” Dana trails off as she looks straight ahead to where her mother was indicating and confirms that it is indeed Fox Mulder, standing with his hands in his pockets and his eyes trained to the floor as he appears to be waiting near the vestibule for the restrooms.

“Mulder?” Scully questions as she approaches, her voice giving away her confusion and growing concern.

His head darts up in surprise, but a beaming smile of recognition quickly overtakes his face.

“Hey, Scully! Mrs. Scully, it’s so nice to see you!”

“You too, Fox,” Maggie kindly replies, although a quick glance to her daughter confirms her suspicion that Dana is still very confused by his presence.

“Did you…did you need something?” She suddenly feels silly for presuming that he must have come there with urgent news or a case or something, but why else would Fox Mulder be at Petrino’s on a Saturday night? Did his informants trade in clandestine meetings in parking garages for family-style Italian?

“Hmm?” Mulder asks.

“You didn’t come here to find me? I told you I was bringing my mom here for her birthday, didn’t I?” He didn’t look like he had rushed to the restaurant from the office or his apartment as she had originally assumed. He had clearly shaved and combed his hair nicely. He wore an olive green sweater with dark blue jeans and a black wool pea coat rather than his leather jacket. He had definitely made an effort.

“You did, but I thought you were going out tomorrow night on her actual birthday. Happy birthday, by the way, Mrs. Scully.”

“Thank you, Fox. I’m going to have lunch with some ladies from church after mass tomorrow, so I asked Dana if we could do Saturday night instead.”

“Ah. What a weird coincidence then. I can’t believe we didn’t see you at all during dinner.”

We.

Oh God.

Mulder was on a date.

Mulder was on a date in this restaurant on the night he thought Scully wasn’t going to be there. Mulder was on a date right after Scully had confessed to her mother (and herself) that their “just friends” status was in the process of changing. Mulder was on a date right after he’d been through so much pain but seemed to come out lighter and more open and he wanted to share it with someone…who wasn’t Dana Scully.

“So, you’ve already eaten then?” Maggie asks since her daughter appears unable to form a coherent statement at the moment.

“Yeah, we just finished. I’m just waiting for her…” he seems to trail off just to motion towards the restroom rather than say anything indelicate, but then he notices Maggie’s poorly masked look of concern toward Dana, and then he notices Dana’s completely unmasked look of shock.

And then he gets it.

“Oh, no! It’s not…I want you to meet her,” Mulder insists as he grabs a hold of both of Scully’s elbows and then glances anxiously toward the restroom door.

Dana Scully looks like she might be ill.

Thankfully Mulder only stammers a moment longer until the restroom door opens and he finds reprieve when a tall, thin woman appearing to be in her mid-60s walks through the door.

“Aunt Helen,” Mulder calls.

Somehow Scully’s eyes manage to get even wider as some of the color returns to her face.

“Aunt Helen, there are a few people I’d really like you to meet. This is my partner, Dana Scully, and this is her mother, Margaret Scully.”

Aunt Helen smiles widely in recognition, first shaking Maggie’s hand and then Dana’s. “It is such a pleasure to meet you both. I’ve heard such wonderful things.”

She lingers with her hand holding Dana’s while she says this, and the younger Scully is left blushing. She hazards a look at Mulder, but he doesn’t look embarrassed by this revelation. He holds her gaze with nothing but pride.

“This is my aunt, Helen Briggs. She’s my mom’s sister. She’s visiting for the weekend from Charlotte.”

They all kind of marvel over the fact that they were in the same restaurant and what a coincidence and oh, we were seated near the back bar, that must be why we didn’t see you and Scully is just starting to feel her pulse return to normal as Aunt Helen laments not having a chance to talk with the Scullys.

“Well, Dana and I skipped dessert so we could go to The Big Dipper for some ice cream. Would you two like to join us?”

“Oh, that would be lovely. As long as we’re not intruding,” says Aunt Helen.

“Not at all,” Scully assures her. “There is one catch, though.”

“It’s not real ice cream. It’s that Tofutti nonsense, isn’t it?” Mulder groans.

“It better not be,” Maggie insists. “I don’t know how she eats that stuff.”

Scully ignores her mother and her partner’s bad mouthing of her frozen treats as she returns her attention to Aunt Helen.

“I’m afraid if you want to come along, you will have to reveal a few good Young Mulder stories. And by ‘a few,’ I mean as many as you’ve got. And by ‘good,’ I mean the more embarrassing the better.”

“I’ll start thinking now,” Aunt Helen laughs.

“I knew I should’ve picked a different restaurant,” Mulder says regretfully.

***********

They’ve just sat down to a small, round table for four with their ice cream when Mulder stands up to get them all more napkins, and Aunt Helen retrieves a small, rectangular piece of paper from her purse that she then deftly slides to Dana.

“Oh my god!” Scully exclaims with joy.

Staring back at her from the paper is a very young Fox Mulder. She guesses he must be around 8 or 9 in the school photo. His long, sandy brown hair falls just above his eyebrows. He doesn’t have his distinctive nose yet, but his bottom lip is already a little pouty. The real give away is the eyes. He’s grinning for the camera, but his eyes still have that soulfulness, that slight sadness.

She’s surprised. She knows she shouldn’t be. His eyes didn’t suddenly change when Samantha was taken. His eyes were probably always like that.

But she had always assumed that the great tragedy had flipped a switch for Young Fox Mulder. That before that single event, he had certainly been a perfectly happy child. Funny and athletic, popular for sure. But the humor developed as a defense mechanism later in life. And the sports were a great physical release as well as an excuse to be out of the house as much as possible. She didn’t actually know what he was like before, but now that she thought about it, home life was probably never all that great if it eventually led to a father sacrificing one child and leaving the other to always live with the guilt and loss.

It was very possible that Fox Mulder had always been a little boy with a lot on his mind.

In contrast, present day, adult Fox Mulder looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world as he returns with extra napkins, ready to tuck into his chocolate peanut butter ice cream in a waffle cone – that is until he realizes what his friend and partner Dana Scully is looking at.

“Oh come on. I was gone for thirty seconds, and you have the visual aids out.”

Scully continues to beam as Maggie finally gets a glimpse of the photo in her hand.

“Oh, Fox!”

“Okay,” Mulder said exasperatedly. “Does this meet your embarrassment quota?” he asks, looking pointedly at Scully.

“Not even close! This isn’t embarrassing. It’s adorable!”

Mulder rolls his eyes but can’t hide his bashful grin at her comment.

“It’s only fair, Fox. I know you’ve seen family photos of Dana at my house,” Mrs. Scully says, sounding like a mother well practiced in settling disputes between children.

“Just a couple. I do like that high school graduation picture, though. I still don’t know how you kept your cap on with all that hair.”

“That was the style back then. Everybody teased their hair and used a ton of hairspray.”

“I thought it might be a religious thing at Catholic school. The higher the hair, the closer to God,” Mulder teases.

Maggie and Aunt Helen chuckle, though the latter gives him a good-natured swat on the arm in admonishment.

“See, this is what I need, though. I need something from the teen years. That’s peak embarrassment fodder,” Scully says.

“If you ask our colleagues, I think my peak embarrassment fodder would come from about 1991 to present,” Mulder points out.

Aunt Helen just looks slightly regretful. “I’m afraid I don’t have many stories from those years, Dana.”

Mulder makes eye contact with Aunt Helen. “You didn’t miss much,” he insists. She looks like she wants to debate him, but he just places a hand on hers reassuringly, and they seem to make a silent agreement to not argue the point any further.

Mulder had never really mentioned any other family before. She knew his grandparents had all passed before she met him, but she had assumed, just like with everything else, that any other extended family connections had disappeared along with Samantha. That no one would know how to comfort and console The Mulders in a situation like that, with no explanation.

His aunts and uncles must have had questions, probably even had their own theories. Did his mother’s side suspect his father’s involvement, or did his father’s side blame his mother somehow? Did any of them blame…no, she couldn’t go down that route. Besides, did anyone ever suspect horrific things like that before the days of cable news and supermarket tabloids?

The point is, it was a tense situation, so Scully assumed they had all done what wealthy white people in places like Martha’s Vineyard and Boston and Raleigh did with any uncomfortable subject – they avoided it completely.

And that meant avoiding the little boy with a lot on his mind as he became a teenager with even more on his mind.

Scully had accompanied Mulder to a small burial service for his mother in Raleigh a few months ago. It was just the service. No gathering or dinner after, or at least not one that Mulder told her about. The attendees at the service were all pretty spread out, not much mingling. Again, it was another sudden loss shrouded in mystery. They all avoided particulars as much as they could.

Scully didn’t remember seeing Aunt Helen that day, but maybe she was there and just couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Maybe she wasn’t there because she couldn’t bring herself to go and then regretted it. Dana Scully didn’t know, and it didn’t actually matter. The point is that she’s here now. And that’s exactly what Mulder’s look of reassurance and acceptance seems to say.

It seems to help her perk up because she offers playfully, “Oh, what about that summer on Quonochontaug? I think you were 9 or so, and you were collecting leaves for one of your Indian Guide badges.”

“Oh god!”

“I’m hooked already. Not to jump ahead, but please tell me there’s poison ivy involved,” Scully says gleefully.

Aunt Helen’s bark of laughter and Mulder’s exaggerated eye roll are all the confirmation she needs.

“It was heavily involved! But that’s not the worst part. While he was working on his Leaf Collecting badge, he also earned credit towards his Wildlife badge when he came across a skunk in the woods.”

“No!” Scully shouts.

“Ivyed and skunked at the same time,” Mulder admits.

“Oh you poor thing,” Maggie adds sympathetically, but with barely contained laughter.

“He had to jump right from a tomato juice bath for the skunk smell…”

“Which didn’t work!”

“…into an oatmeal bath for the itching.”

“Which worked better, but I still smelled like a Grateful Dead concert.”

Both Scullys are full on giggling at this point.

“Do you remember what Grandpa Ralph said when he walked in and saw you and mom dunking me in a tub of oatmeal?” Mulder asks.

Aunt Helen pitches her voice deeper and amps up her Southern twang, “Why don’t cha dip him in some egg and flour next? We toss him in the frying pan, we got supper! We’re havin’ Fried Fox tonight!”

Now they’re all in hysterics. Even the man who usually hates his given name can’t help but laugh along, especially when it makes his lovely company so happy.

*****************

Scully enters the basement office Monday morning to find Mulder already there, flipping through an open drawer in the filing cabinet.

“Good morning,” she says cheerfully.

He looks up and smiles. “Good morning. Long time no see.”

“How was the rest of your weekend? Did you guys do any sightseeing or anything?”

“No, we just had a late breakfast yesterday before I took her to the airport, but it was good to catch up some more. She told me to thank you again for letting us tag along for ice cream. It was really nice.”

“It was,” Scully agrees.

Mulder appears to be considering something for a moment before he crosses over to the desk and picks up a small envelope.

“She also told me to give this to you,” he says almost bashfully, extending the envelope in Scully’s direction. “She told me I couldn’t look inside, and I didn’t. But I think I know what’s in there, and if I’m right, you don’t have to keep it. You can just leave it here on the desk.”

Well, now she’s intrigued. Scully opens the envelope to find a small handwritten note at the top.

“I thought you might like these. I have plenty more too, if you’d ever like to see them or want any more stories. Please don’t be a stranger.”

Scully lifts up the note to see the remaining contents inside and finds a small stack of photographs, a mixture of more school photos along with a few wallet-sized family portraits and a couple candids taken on the beaches of the Vineyard or Rhode Island, she can’t tell. But she sees the same set of eyes in all of them.

She looks back to read the rest of the note.

“I’m so glad I got to meet you, Dana. Take care!”

Below Aunt Helen’s elegant signature, she has also written her home address and phone number. Scully will have to call and thank her.

“She tried to give some to me,” Mulder explains, “but I didn’t really want…and like I said, you don’t have to…”

“No, I’d like to keep them,” Dana insists.

Mulder lets her statement hang in the air for a moment, but he can’t help but diffuse it.

“You just want more blackmail material.”

“Something like that,” Scully says teasingly, but there’s no bite behind it.

“I knew I should’ve picked a different restaurant.”

She chuckles lightly as she shuffles the photos into a neat stack to place back in the envelope, thinking that this is the point where they get back to work. Mulder stays standing in front of her and appears to be considering something again. Does he have another envelope that he’s afraid to give her?

“You know it was pure luck that we ended up at Petrino’s the same night as you. I actually gave Aunt Helen a few options and let her choose. I was pushing more for that Thai place in Arlington, just off Old Dominion. The one that’s been there forever,” Mulder explains.

“Oh, the one with the secret menu? I’ve still never been there. Can’t say I’m surprised that Aunt Helen wasn’t up for Thai food, though.”

“Yeah. Fair point,” Mulder nods for a moment too long before continuing. “Would you like to go there sometime? Like this Saturday? With me?”

Scully slowly looks up from the envelope to see Mulder’s face because in all matters, other than the divine, Dana Scully needs to see to believe. And the slightly nervous yet gentle grin that she finds allows her to believe it to be true – Fox Mulder has just asked her out on a real date.

“I would like that,” Scully says gently.

“Good. You wanna say 7:30? Or we can always figure out time later,” Mulder states, aiming for practicality to keep him from grinning like a complete idiot. He ends up grinning like a moderate idiot, but he’s okay with that.

“Sounds good.”

Yep, Scully will definitely have to call Aunt Helen and thank her.

#msr fanfic #txf fanfic #msr #mulder and scully #dana scully #maggie scully #fox mulder

178 notes · View notes

i-need-air · 5 years ago

Text

"Dude" — Bakugou Katsuki x Reader [P.2]

Word count: 6.7k;

[ Part 1 ]; [ Masterlist ]

The new message plastered on your phonescreen earned a small smile from you. After a couple of days of sitting together at the same table due to Mei dumping your lonely ass for her babies, Mina suggested to text just to keep in contact more often. Something you did not expect was to be thrown in a group text with her and her friends.

They were absolutely hilarious; until recently they found out you had decent grades and started asking for your assistance, bugging you to join their study sessions, adding something about Bakugou being an absolute beast whenever he tutors them.

Pinky: Aww sucks that you're not coming! You're missing out Bakugou strangling Kaminari lmfao

You rolled your eyes in amusement. Why of course he'd be doing that.

What a strange little man. He really was; just as you started sitting with them, he'd mainly mind his own business, wearing his normal resting gremlin face and poking his food as if he was practicing murder just for the sake of it. First he orders you to sit with them, then he turns into an antisocial bastard most of the times. Yet, somehow, lunch with them was delightful and you found yourself looking forward to spend time with them, hear about their amusing stories and to top it all, making fun of The Great Bakugou Katsuki turned the whole event into a whole different level of fun.

As you weren't completely oblivious, his wandering eyes were really hard to miss anyway; you'd catch his gaze from time to time and he'd look away, annoyed, grunting like the man-child he actually was. Infuriating; how your heart skipped every single time it happened and how you wanted to have those deep crimson orbs on you again and again.

One thing you did not want to do was to leave Mei to the side; whenever she couldn't hang out she would inform you and you'd find something else to entertain yourself with; in occasions you did march in her workshop and sat your royal ass down without permission. Like as you did today, sitting in silence, you enjoyed the normal machinery sounds and her focused hums as she worked with you by her side. It was calming. The much needed calmness that you craved.

It's been a couple of weeks after the glorious incident and you have been noticing how your classmates, mostly the popular ones, started giving you the stink eye; your spidey-senses very much aware that it had to be Midori's doing yet the girl was keeping a very low profile. The hairs on the back of your neck rising whenever you thought about her next step because this level of radio silence was suspicious.

Between your growing interest into the blond and the dread related to your nemesis, Mei stopped her hard work to frown at you.

"Something's on your mind?" She probed, adjusting her goggles better on her head. "You're awfully quiet~"

Through a small giggle, you nodded but took some time to answer. "I guess?"

"Let me rephrase that." She cleared her throat dramatically "Someone's on your mind?"

A sharp gasp left your lips, realization kicking in; you had Hatsume Mei's full attention for the first time ever. In the workshop. Where her babies were! About to point it out, she narrowed her eyes at you, zooming onto you.

"[Y/N]." It's all she needed to say before you looked down, mind on one person in particular, not noticing how your friend smiled fondly to herself as she placed her hands on her hips; she chuckled lightly.

"Mind sharing what's funny with the class, Mei?" You asked trying to decrypt her expression still locked on you. She shrugged and shook her head, her wild pink locks moving wildly.

"OI, WERD—" the brash voice interrupted itself in reconsideration. The owner of said voice clicked his tongue and entered her workspace with indifference, looking around. "My gauntlets fixed?" He asked, curiously checking the lone couch in the corner, then turning his glare at her.

Ignoring his question, Mei's inquisitive gaze locked on him. "Are you looking for someone?"

It was as if she pressed a Total Destruction button because even the hairs on his head spiked up more than normally as he threw her a bloodshot glare.

"WHY THE FUCK WOULD I LOOK FOR [Y/N]?! I DON'T EVEN CARE WHERE—"

"I didn't mention [Y/N] at all though." she cheerily retorted, seeing his position stiffen even more.

"WHAT— WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT— WHO EVEN IS [Y/N]?!" Word-vomit took over; he was shaking at this point, panicked and cringing at his own mistake. "I'm SO FUCKING DONE with people giving me SHIT about that dumbass!" he kicked a table trying to prove a point but the girl was unimpressed.

"So you do know [Y/N]."

"YOU KNOW WHAT? FUCK YOU, GOGGLES! Fucking bothersome assholes always buttin' in—" his voice started fading into the distance as he walked out, fuming with nerves.

She blinked before screaming "What about your gauntlets?" through a smile.

"OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKE, GIVE ME—" he appeared once again, agitated.

A wave of lava filled your chest as she told you casually, even trying to copy the way he talked, making you laugh in exchange. You shouldn't feel that way, shouldn't you? It was ridiculous since he truly only insulted you and screamed in your general direction; well, it seems he screamed in every direction but it wasn't the point. The point was the warmth in your chest only gave you hope and the still functioning part of your brain begged to differ.

"He's a good guy." You whispered, suddently shy under Mei's knowing gaze.

And he called her Goggles too. You giggled fondly.

—

A few days later, wild gutural screams made you jolt from your desk in panic. You would've recognized that voice anywhere by now so you rushed towards the infirmary door just to find professor Aizawa and two cocoons made of his scarf behind him. His eyebrow was twitching and had a dark aura around him, eyes glowing menacingly but not directed to you.

"I'll fucking kill you—"

"But Kaccha—"

"Silence." The irritated and tired looking man said entering the room, dragging said cocoons behind him, knocking one in the door and pulling harder. You cringed, sure thinking he wasn't having a good day.

"OOF— What the shit was that?" The bundle started to shake uncontrollably which made you giggle. It stopped; halted and froze in place listening attentively as you tried to hide your laughter, trying not to annoy the teacher that seriously gave off a whole Done with life aura.

"You must be [L/N]." he pointed out, undoing one of the cocoons, a big fluffy broccoli like head appearing, big green eyes trying to focus.

"Yes, sir."

"They're beaten. Broken leg and broken rib. Can you heal them or should we wait for Recovery Girl?" The dark haired man went straight to business.

"I can handle that so no need to wait for her."

"Good. I'll leave them in your care." With a nod, he also released the blond, making him tumble and fall on his face. The poor guy groaned but bolted up with a raised fist.

"Behave." The older man said walking away, not really caring about Bakugou's heated muttering. The door shut gently and you found yourself looking at two boys; one fuming and avoiding your eyes, the other on the floor, staring up at you. His leg looked wonky so you fought back a face of discomfort before going to his aid.

"You." You pointed at Bakugou then at the bed. "Sit." A grin spread on your face as you used his words, meanwhile you leaned down to help Midoriya Izuku.

His eyes were absolutely intimidating, as if the boy tried to search within your soul as you helped him up.

"My name is [L/N] [Y/N] and I'm going to heal you today." He returned your smile with ease and nodded, his fluffy green hair shaking through the action.

"I'm—"

"Midoriya Izuku, yes. You're pretty popular, you know?" His face went all red, taken back by the fact.

Curses could be heard behind both; your hand was supporting Midoriya's weight as he only hopped ahead with his good leg, leaded towards a bed. Shuffling sounded too, still accompanied with another round of indistinguishable curses and grunts.

When the green-haired boy was securely placed, you turned towards the other, finding him sitting on the edge of the bed furthest away from Midoriya, pouting adorably.

"So you've got a broken rib, right?"

"What's it to you?" It was his turn to be a petty little shit and copy your words, still not looking up. His leg was shaking and his posture looked uncomfortable so it was not the time to get into your usual bickering.

"Lay down." He tsk-ed sharply. "Please." You pleaded, pursing your lips at his childish attitude. He finally snapped his eyes on you, just slightly widened in what could be surprise but you couldn't tell. All that mattered was that he ended up doing what you said. Though with more huffing, as if it bothered him immensely.

"Ya happy now?" He snapped.

"Very! Now—" you're taken back yet again by the intensity of those green eyes that looked between you and Bakugou with interest. "I'm gonna have to give you an anesthesic and adjust your leg back in place before healing you—"

Like a working bee, you ran around the infirmary getting your syringe ready, a little bit too nervous as two pair of eyes burned into your back.

"Where do you know each other from, Kacchan?" Izuku asked. Even if his leg hurt like a bitch, he couldn't help but be curious about the person Kacchan has been having lunch with for the past weeks; but what type of response could you get from the one and only?

"Mind your own damned fucking business!"

You sighed, irritated but the nickname didn't fly above your head. In all means, he shouldn't be screaming. He had a broken rib and he was screeching like an idiot. Didn't it hurt to even breathe?!

"Bakugou, you need to lay low and shut up."

There wasn't any time to play around; Midoriya behaved exemplary, just barely wincing at the syringe probing his knee but did not complain at all. The polar opposite of the blond beds away.

After letting the anesthetic to take effect, you moved towards the guy that's been living rent free in your head. He looked beaten up, had a bloody nose, open-wounded knuckles and shaky hands.

"Okay, I need you to relax." You whispered, trying to lift his tank-top but he stopped your wrist.

"The fuck yOu doing?!" his voice cracked momentarily while hyperventilating.

"Dude, take slow, steady breaths. In order to heal you I need to touch the skin closer to the wound." It wasn't entirely true but not exactly a lie either. After a pause for consideration he nodded but his eyes remained wary. "You've seen me do it before! Now show me where it hurts."

You needed concentration, focus, steady hands, rock-hard abs and tanned skin— Nooooo, [Y/N]!

All your might; all of it to act nonchalant and professional, to not fucking stare like a degenerate because he was absolutely built. But you couldn't help it. You couldn't help placing your palm on his ribs gently, instead of just the tip of your fingers as you normally would've needed. His sigh of relief made you incredibly giddy, feeling accomplished and fulfilled knowing you've done a great job for him. You also couldn't help healing his most visible wounds one by one instead of doing it all together in one single touch.

Were you flustered? Definitely and his attention only made it worse. You picked one of his hands and he spasmed away but ultimately gave in with a choked grunt; then grabbed the other and channeled your energy into his body.

Your heads were tilted downwards, both staring at how his knuckles healed slowly. What neither him or you noticed was how all his scratches and bruises all over him healed too, or the prying eyes of a third wheel that was already taking notes of your quirk.

"Okay." You whispered, not really wanting to let go. Your brain screamed Dishonor! but your heart skipped a beat, then another, then exploded when you lifted your gaze.

Crimson eyes looked at you in awe, wide and never this clear. They were shining too and you couldn't help but give his strong hands a squeeze, feeling in the calloused skin of his palm and wondered which one of you was shaking... He blushed then and opened his mouth, yet his brows furrowed as his focus shifted behind you.

"THE FUCK YOU STARING AT, PUNK?!"

Oh, yeah. Your other patient.

In a heartbeat you were by Midoriya's side and got to work, chest heavy and no words coming out of you. No snappy or cheeky retorts either, just trembling hands and warm cheeks. Only with murmurs you guided him through the procedure before healing him completely.

Dizziness overtook you; the downside of your quirk and something you've been training with Recovery Girl for the whole semester.

"That was amazing, [L/N]-san! Thank you!" The boy cheered, staring down at his leg in utter disbelief. His compliment made you grin, full and proud.

"Of course it was!" Your normal self surfaced.

"Fucking woo-hoo." Nevermind. Mood dropped and your face did too.

"Well, since you've been a good patient—" you start and ruffle through your bag "You get a lollipop!" Said candy was thrown in Midoriya's lap and he stared at it baffled. Meanwhile you turned towards the bane of your existence and raised a brow, shaking another lollipop in your hand. "You don't. This one is mine because I deserve it."

His angry, stupid and scandalized expression was everything you were looking for. Did you get out of your way to buy lollipops knowing Bakugou would end up in the infirmary sooner or later? Maybe. Was it worth it?

"What the fuck does that mean, dammit— I—" words caught in his throat as he choked with air, looking at the candy in your fingers with murderous intentions. Definitely worth it.

"Thank you?" Broccoli Boy asked but started unwrapping it, probably not to insult your kindness, and the whole interaction fueled Bakugou's anger. He snapped out of the bed and so did Midoriya, but one was marching towards you while the other just wanted to run away in fear, direction Exit.

"Gimme that shit!" He tried to grab it out of your grasp, but you moved away, laughing at his face.

"Midoriya has been nice and thanked me for the healing—" at this point he was boiling. "Say Thank you, [Y/N], you're amazing and awesome and—"

"LIKE FUCKING HELL IMMA SAY THAT, DUMBASS!" he was so sweet, the guy you liked; yeah, your sudden realization hit as he looked like a tomato ready to bite your head off and the only thing you could think was how adorable and sweet he was. All gurgling in rage, spitting cussed words left and right; dreamy, he was dreamy. He caught the lollipop from your hands, his scowl turning into a full blown victorious grin. So shiny... so bright... God, he was so handsome...

You're suddently falling in his arms in slow-motion, the world around you twisting and turning with him in the center of it all. Warmth engulfed your frame as you hit the most comfortable pillow of your life. His chest.

"Oi, [Y/—" he cursed, taking no time to place you on the bed with ease. "You okay?"

"W-What happened? Is she okay?" It seemed the famous Deku decided to remain for the spectacle.

"Get lost!"

Even if you wanted to pass out, his snaps wouldn't let you and with that thought you chuckled breathlessly. "I'm fine, I just need a nap after healing this much..." you assured into the air.

"Will you be okay, [Y/N]-san?" You turned your head until you spotted him and nodded through a smile but someone else answered for you.

"I see you took matters in your own hands." The sweet, gentle voice of your mentor put you to ease but scared poor Midoriya to the core as she appeared behind him at the door. Bakugou was still hovering over you in bed, not really knowing what to do. "You should leave [L/N] rest, boys." With tiny steps she walked around, not really paying any more attention to the scene.

The blond gave you a glance and pursed his lip, analyzing the candy in his hand. Through half-lidded eyes you saw him secure it in his fist and give you a nod. At this point everything was blurry.

"Thanks... or whatever." He didn't waste any time to bolt towards the door, his broad uncovered shoulders were the last thing you saw before closing your eyes in contempt.

"Kacchan, is [Y/N]-san your—?"

"MIND YOUR GODDAM—" the door shut close, making the room tremble and you giggled like a drunk fool.

—

Bakugou walked with his hands in his pockets, looking around with little interest as Dunce Face and Racoon Eyes blabbered without pause to breathe. Fuck, he was exhausted and the concept of shoving food down his throat sounded fucking fantastic. His insides turned and twisted knowing you'd be meeting them soon.

"Yo, isn't that [Y/N]?" Like a flash, his head bolted in the direction Denki pointed at and before he spotted you, the blond already wanted to punch himself in the jaw. Why the fuck is he acting like that? The answer faded in his mind as the scene unfolded in front of him.

—

"You're such a fucking bitch, you know that, [Y/N]?" Arms crossed, you placated the poor first year that was whispering behind you.

"Wow, Midori, so original." With a dead tone and rolling eyes from you, the white haired demon only twisted her face in disgust. "My feelings are hurt."

"Who do you think you are? You're a fucking nobody, [Y/N]! You think you're doing any good here? Go kill yourself!"

"And give you the satisfaction? No, not happening, you fork-tongued lizard." Your nails looked interesting.

Her pale purple eyes got ignited and her diminute frame puffed, like a rabid little mole-rat ready to bite someone. And just like that, she took a deep breath and started yapping and barking. "YOU'RE BETTER DEAD ANYWAY, YOU WHORE! YOU RUIN EVERYTHING! NOW EVERYONE IS TALKING ABOUT ME! ABOUT HOW YOU STOLE HIM FROM ME! DIE ALREADY!"

Sadly you didn't have any cookies on since you definitely felt like shoving one in her fanged, venomous mouth and patting her head for the effort. Your lips turned oh, so slowly into a grin, enjoying her reaction way too much.

"That's nice. Now can you like, I don't know, go back to making potions with your coven or some crap? Leave the kid alone—"

"This pathetic little shit was talking about me! ME!" her screech hurt your ears so you covered them before you turned to the kid to just see him standing there, petrified.

"Did you try to summon Satan and she appeared instea—?"

"I'M SO FUCKING DONE WITH YOUR CRAP, YOU—" she pushed you but grasped your uniform, a ripping sound following. "UGLY—" nothing prepared you to get attacked by her. "FAT—" she raised her palm. "WHORE!"

No way in hell you were going to back down, instead you clenched your jaw and got ready to block it and finish the fight. She never remotely attended to hit you in a somewhat public place as she was a careful witch, always brewing something in that rotten brain of hers and making sure to keep her sweet appearance on point for the public.

You blinked.

"That was insane!"

The scenery in front of you suddently changed with that one single blink and a tall blond mass of muscle just popped out of nowhere. It knocked the air out of your lungs for a moment and seeing him staring down at her with such hatred, holding her wrist high in the air made you feel immense relief, much to your own surprise.

Were you that tense before?

"Midori-chan, I didn't know you were this rotten." Kaminari appeared in your field of vision too but got ignored by the girl. Her only goal was to free herself from Bakugou's grip but he wouldn't bulge.

"Y-You got it all wrong, Bakugou-s-san!"

Everyone stood there silent, utterly disgusted with her attempt to even try to twist reality.

"Don't even fucking think about it." He warned and those words rumbled deep, threat held within.

"We heard it all, Midori." You shook in place, twisting to see Mina by the kid's side, patting his back. After being used to seeing her easy-going attitude it was only natural to be amazed by her somber tone and serious manner.

Why were you so relieved? kept creeping in your mind. Why?

He then threw her wrist out of his grasp and bared his teeth in her direction, globes so bloodshot scrutinizing her. He oozed rage and fury and was combusting in place. But he did not scream. Bakugou Katsuki did not scream for once when he started talking, instead he growled his words, each with care and clarity.

"If i ever fucking hear you talking like that to anyone ever again I will— fucking— break you." you could hear his teeth grit, the sound making you shiver both in terror and excitement. "NOW GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE! I BETTER NOT FUCKING SEE YOU OR HEAR ABOUT YOU EVER AGAIN!" she yelped, fluttering her tears away and scurrying so fast it could've been comical.

Bakugou then spun to study you, chest raising and falling heavily. You couldn't descypher his appearance at the moment; there was the aggravation, the outrage, the burning flame in his orbs but also... Uncertainty? Guilt? Shame? It wiped off his face before you could figure it out.

"We're taking him to talk to a professor about what happened." Mina's voice faded in the distance. He nodded at Kaminari, who was behind you, and got a nod in response plus a pair of thumbs up, and with that they were gone.

He still tried to control himself, but as soon as you parted your lips to say anything at this point, he snarled into the nothingness. "THAT FUCKING BITCH—"

"Bakugou..."

"FOR HOW LONG?" he then screamed at you, malice gone but tone just as rough and loud.

"For how long what?" You said calmly while also noticing and adjusting the ripped sleeve of your uniform. He ran his palm over his face, eyeing it too.

"For how fucking long has this been going?"

"Oh, her—" there was this pressure to say it out loud, to confirm what it really was, like saying it out loud would give it weight, importance...

"Her bullshit, yeah." he didn't force it either, thankfully.

"Since we were in middle-school." you shrugged, chest and neck aching without an apparent reason. You cleared your throat.

"Stop that— Stop that fucking shit. Don't do that." He got close to you in a single step and you had to look up at him, feeling so small out of a sudden by his side. You smiled, as you taught yourself to do whenever things got tough.

"Do what?" It came out shaky, too shaky for your own taste but he was so close.

"Act like it doesn't fucking matter! Like it's no big fucking deal!" His breath fanned your face.

"I mean..." you started shrugging again but he stopped the action, palms holding your shoulders in place as he gave you a pissed off look. "It doesn't really matt—"

"YES, IT FUCKING DOES!"

His fingers held you in the spot as he inspected your features with a clenched jaw and classic furrowed brow. Flames erupted in your ribcage at his words and you couldn't even breathe anymore.

You licked your lips, not sure if you could say the next words but the fact that he focused on the action too attentively gave you the push needed. "What's it to you?"

His breath hitched, fanning over your face as he stiffened. Deep crimson waved between your own orbs and your lips—

Those flames? The flames that burned your inside? They were spreading throughout your body rapidly, the epicenter at the spot where his thumb caressed your skin at the edge of your shoulder, just touching the start of your collarbone. Even through the layer of fabric you felt it, as tiny as it was, but he did not do anything, just stood there with red tinted cheeks in daze. Much like you were.

"Thank you for saving me today, Bakugou." You whispered and he just nodded, still enthralled with your lips. At least you knew he was somewhat still there with you. Involuntarily, you bit your lower lip, just a little, smiling softly, taking the smallest step towards him; the corner of his lip turned up slightly—

"[Y/N]! Director Nezu wants to talk to you too!"

The spell was broken; you yelped into him, grabbing his shirt for support and checked your surroundings. A waving hand caught your attention; Kaminari was signaling you to go to him then froze and started running away; little did you know someone was sending him a death glare.

You cleared your throat, still warm and fuzzy from head to toe and separared from the blond that caught you in his arms. Bakugou seemed to have noticed the position too because he jerked away a step back and looked completely out of place.

Ridiculous. And hilarious, looking anywhere but you and still made no attempt to move. Neither did you, instead opting to hide a giggle.

Because you felt warm, tingly, all while he was a complete gremlin, sweet in his own personalized way, in which he cared for you, he defended you.

And you're in disbelief because how come this guy, this adorable, blushing porcupine with anger issues made you feel so soft and fragile? How did you end up in this situation and how can you stay in it forever?

"What's so fucking funny, hah?" There wasn't any bite to what could've been an aggressive wording, just hidden tenderness. He fought a smile too and had the audacity to try to act annoyed. Sadly, you had to go, so you shook your head and took a step back.

Bakugou understood, so he nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I'll see how later, ok?" You promised and he glanced at you from the corner of his eye. Now you had his ear in full view for you to see the tips reddened too. You want to melt, even coo at the sight, but you really did have to go. However, you couldn't leave without sending him a cheeky smile.

"Yeah, whatever." His jaw sinked a little in the collar of his shirt as he stomped away too.

—

The whole afternoon was spent talking to a counselor and to the principal himself about a problematic individual. The first year student was encouraged by your new friends to report it as they escorted him to safety and soon an internal investigation started; maybe, possibly because of you.

Why were you so relieved?

Because they listened to you. Because they believed you. Because you didn't have to prepare yourself every single morning to take verbal hits from all directions. Because you've been given a voice, unlike your old school where everything was brushed off; "It's your word against hers" and much more bullshit. No, this time was real and they proved it by listening to every single word you said.

You were dropped at your dorms just before 9 P.M. and it was too late to meet anyone at the point. But it wasn't important; the moment you landed on your bed a smile broke on your face, a few tears fell and you had the best sleep in forever.

—

The air changed. The aura around your class switched. Midori was clearly missing, which instantly turns a bad day into a fantastic one, but it wasn't only that. Students were called, one by one, again and again interrupting class and took hours to come back. Meanwhile the Divas in particular looked concerned, another great view to enjoy now and until the rest of time.

It was obvious why this was happening and you never felt this much peace and satisfaction. Even so, you started to feel overwhelmed because people suddently started greeting you. The people that weren't in Midori's toxic and constricted entourage.

They said your name! Without hatred! The school's goldenboy's name, Kaminari Denki, was dropped again and again too. It seems he just casually started mentioning what he witnessed the day before and you suddently felt the need to hug him tight. Gossip spread like wild fire thanks to him, after all.

Maybe you fell into a parallel universe but you couldn't bring yourself to care, you just waltzed on the hallways after the bell rang, wanting to go get some food, then hide at Mei's workshop for some recharging. Another part of you wanted to meet the explosive boy too, though.

In all honesty, it didn't matter where you ended. You were in an incredible mood.They talked to you and it was exhausting but nice!

Was this what it felt in horror movies when the demon-child with rotating head and projectile vomit was finally exorcized? Was the curse really released for good?

As you floated in the skies, high on life and what-not, you turned the corner just to run nose straight into a wall. Your brain decided to take a break for the day, it seems, and you genuinely hoped nobody saw you march head first into— It wasn't a wall, but a boy that gave you a raised brow and narrowed eyes.

"Watch where the fuck you're going, dumbass."

"Great to see you too!" you chippered, walking around him, knowing for a fact his attitude wouldn't be able to piss you off—

"What's with the idiotic expression?" Nevermind, he can go fuck himself. Yet you smiled because you're a Godsend angel and that's what winged saints do.

"Just really happy." You shrugged, walking away with ease and tried to bite a bigger smile off your face when you noticed him turning to walk with you. "What are you doing on this side of the campus?" You inquired.

"Came to walk you to lunch or whatever." Well, damn, that made you halt in surprise. He's behind you, staring out the window with disinterest but froze when he saw your dumbfounded face. "WHAT? IT WAS IN MY WAY, OK? Want me to leave? I can leave! You can fuck off—" You placated your hands and started laughing.

"No, no—" Your eyes glint. "It's really sweet of you." You said, awaiting his reaction with mischief.

He first choked on air, like one normally does, and then showed the worst allergic reaction to mere words. "SW—! THAT'S NOT— I'M NOT— YOU— I— NO—" in no time you're crackling like a deranged witch, adoring every single second of the show he was pulling. He was basically howling and your laughter actually infuriated him more.

"FUCK OFF!" Your amusement calmed down as you studied him, his puffed cheeks, red eyes avoiding you; with a few stomped steps he placed himself ahead of you but made no attempt to stand you up and go be a hermit somewhere else.

Bakugou Katsuki. Ash blond hair, broad back, pink ears... Swears like a sailor, is all bark and and all bite, except with his friends. Has a big heart...

"Something strange is happening." You find yourself saying.

"Hah?" He glances back.

"People have been acting weird." That stops him.

"They better not be fucking messin' with you—"

"No, on the contrary, they're nice to me..." you assured, voice faint as his comment repeated in your mind and your chest warmed up once again because of him.

They better not be fucking messin' with you.

"Good." He says and you can't bite your tongue.

"You're a good guy, Bakugou."

He gives you a face. "Hah? Now you fucking notice?!" But he's grinning at the end of the sentence, cocky and so full of himself and you'd lie if you said you didn't consider him incredibly handsome. Although it seems he did not get the message.

"No. I mean it for real. You really are a good guy." He grunts like he hurt himself in his own confusion, staring stupidly at you, slightly blushing. "You're gonna be such a great hero too." Mouth agape to try to answer, he just gives you plate eyes and nothing else. On the other hand you genuinely expected more explosive reactions but this seemed to have broken him for some good seconds. He stared and watched and stood there like an idiot in front of you, making you want to both bury yourself in your own embarrassment and laugh at him.

You opted to look up at the ceiling, flustered and amused, yesterday's events suddently washing over you; they never really left your thoughts but now all the feelings decided to come visit once again.

"Oi—" he better not ruin it. "Wh— The fuck you kissing my ass for?!" You breathe out, long and loud for him to understand how stupid he sounded and stalked ahead; only food could save the day he's been actively ruining and that's what you were gonna get. He followed your rushed steps with cusses and questions until he grabbed your wrist to slow your pace. "Slow down, dumbass!"

The issue was that his obnoxiously loud voice caught then attention of some students that were just minding their own business.

"Is that Bakugou Katsuki?" Earning a groan from him as if it wasn't his fault!

"—with [L/N] [Y/N]?"

"Are they holding hands?!"

"So they're really together?" You cringe in embarrassment.

"Is that a confession?!" No, no, absolutely not happening. You rush out of the scene, gut burning, the boy on your toes cursing and mumbling whatevers but you didn't reach far until he talks. At least he had the decency of stopping you at an empty spot before giving you a heart attack.

"This is when you confess— or some fucking— dumb shit like that." Even without seeing him, back turned and absolutely petrified, you heard the cocky vibration in his tone that was sprinkled with some light stuttering.

Son of a bitch. That prinkly ass cocky fuck. That absolutely handful of a sea urchin—

You checked the closest stairway, your nearest exit and pathway to your salvation but something in that attitude of his just made you shake as you covered your face and laugh.

"You're... You're the worst." You mumble in disbelief but the grin that almost broke your face got even bigger as he choked and inhaled sharply.

"Hah?! Wasn't I the fucking best a minute ago?!"

"I did not say tha—"

"Same shit!" He bites when you glanced on him through your fingers. Your skin was burning so hot it would've been mortifying if he didn't look just as rattled. The view managed to calm your nerves and spike them at the same time.

"You're the worst..." Finally uncovering your face, he takes in your grin and visibly calms his fuming yet remains just as discomposed. "—and I like you."

Still, you cover your mouth because the blond in front of you started combusting and it was glorious to watch. Hell, you felt like grabbing a snack and watching him go through all those feelings that slapped his face on repeat. First his eyes widened, the teasing from before forgotten, then his skin, already splashed with red transformed completely into the same color, so deep it in resemblance with his eyes, eyes that were reading into you intensely. He went rigid too and as time passed and passed and he did not move, the only thing left was to break him out of his misery. Yes, break him.

"This is when you say it back."

He snapped. "I— DON'T FUCKING— DON'T FUCKING MAKE ME SAY EMBARRASSING SHIT LIKE THAT!" Birds flew away in one mile radius, windows trembled, your eardrums cried for mercy and you hid your smile because even through deafening volume, Bakugou Katsuki did not deny it. A zoo totally high on crystal meth started a revolution in your insides and the feeling threatened to burst out at any moment.

This is it. This ball of emotional constipation was taking your breath away while cussing you after you confessed and all you wanted to do was to squeal... What have you become?

But you said nothing, just stared with your hand covering your mouth, taking in the boy that looked like he wanted to throw fists with you, bared teeth and all, and also simultaneously die of a stroke.

"I—" he tried, you had to give him credit because he really did try. Like a challenge, like he wasn't going to back down, he gave his best and not without looking like it killed him inside. "F—" cuss word got stuck in his throat when you couldn't help a scoff. Suddently the show comes to an end when he halts, gives you a glare and takes a deep breath. For a moment you feared he'd walk away. Oh, how wrong you were because deep down you had to know he did not back down easily.

"I like— you, too." Beautiful words came out of his mouth, looking like it physically pained him to say them. "THERE, I SAID IT! YOU FUCKING HAPPY NOW?!" He howls indignantly, crossing his arms, trying to hide his clear flustered self yet it takes him one glance at you to return to his self induced stroke. "Don't fucking make that dumb fucking face—" he struggled to exist. "Don't look at me like that, dammit!"

You giggle, relieved and happy and in all honesty about to cry a tiny bit. You couldn't help it, enamored with how blissful this moment was. Bakugou stops his grunts and watches you in awe, small, minuscule grin taking over his face and he clicks his tongue, trying to fight it.

And deflects, as always.

"C'mon. Have to walk you there before you get lost or some shit like that." You breathe in and nod, even thought you were perfectly capable of walking to the cafeteria as you've done it for a year and some now.

"Okay."

"You'd be starving if it weren't for me." You snort and roll your eyes, but beam like a lovestruck idiot.

"Sure thing, dude." It instantly earns a grunt, then a pout, followed by grumbles and heavy feet by your side. You check on him, noticing his shrugged shoulders and tinted nose and you almost trip with your own legs because of it. He doesn't say anything for the longest time, which you didn't mind as you yourself needed some time to shoo away the butterflies and rainbows that floated all around in your very empty head. It wasn't until you almost reached the cafeteria that he stops you by the arm and looks away.

"You— You shouldn't call your boyfriend dude, dumbass."

Remember the butterflies? Now they're radioactive and fluttering around, crazed and disoriented.

"Says the one that calls me a dumbass, Bakugou." You relent, thankful he took the initiative to answer the question that lingered in the air throughout all the walk.

A wild flush takes over him and he refuses to turn toward you, just observing from the corner of his eyes.

"It's— It's Katsuki to you, dumbass." And he drags you inside without giving you a chance to process it. But when you do, you grin like mad and whisper just as you were manhandled through the door, preparing yourself for his explosive gargling and screaming and silently apologizing to everyone in your general proximity.

"Okay, Kacchan~"

Note: Thank you for reading and for any sweet mesages! I read each and every one of them and they make me so incredibly happy!! I would like to point out that the phone editor switches around paragraphs and it's very confusing. I edited some mistakes and for now it's good but I'm scared it wasn't fixed since I edited before too and I encounter the same problem again... If you find something off, could you please let me know? I want the reading to be enjoyable for everyone after all. Thank you again! 💕

#boku no hero academia #bnha #noire writes #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou

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athenasbloodyspear · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t Make Me Beg Now Baby

CHAPTER ONE: EDGE OF DARKNESS

Hello fellow Greta Van Freaks. This is my very first Greta fic! I hope you enjoy.

MASTERLIST

Note: This fic contains mature themes, discussions of past non-con (no members of GVF involved) and drug use. Minors DNI. 18+ only and please take care of yourselves. (See Ao3 for full tag list)

You can also read this fic on Ao3 if you prefer!

Jake Kiszka x Original Female Character

Picture this: The boys are in Northern Michigan to write the new album and they meet a wild young woman who works at a local record store who has a rough history with rock bands.

She doesn’t want to fall into the same traps she fell into before. He doesn’t want to hurt her.

The rest of them just want them to figure their shit out.

Note: While this fic is based on the members of Greta Van Fleet, I obviously do not know them personally (lol) and nearly 99% of this is a fever dream I decided to write down. Some tid bits are based on things said in interviews/photos/songs but please do not come for my neck if you dislike my portrayals as this is a STORY that I have entirely made up.

This will be a slow burn, overly dramatic, cliché fest of me missing my Mitten State and wishing more than anything I could move back home. Their music makes me homesick and for that I’ll never forgive them. ;)

Chapter Under the Cut

CHAPTER ONE: EDGE OF DARKNESS

The tiny bell on the door to “The Edge” clanked as Jake pushed his way in, followed by Josh, Sam and Danny. The afternoon sun streamed through the slats in the windows at a harsh angle, illuminating the swirling dust. The boys all immediately took a deep breath. They all loved the smell of this place. A mix of dusty old vinyl's, incense and weed.

The Edge was the shop owned by an old friend, Levi, who had been a longtime family friend of the Kiszka’s. The boys had made the near three hour drive to the shop whenever they had a spare weekend in their younger years. They bought Levi out of his guitar strings and drumsticks and always looked through the boxes of vinyl's hoping to find treasures. Levi sold an eclectic mix of music equipment, records, books, home goods and comically horrific coffee.

The Edge is where they had each bought their very first instruments, had their first beers and even smoked their first joint. It was a special place for them.

The old wood floors creaked with every step, the wood walls were covered with old articles from Rolling Stone, photos Levi had taken and autographs from the artists who had cycled through the place over the years. There were stacks upon stacks of vinyl's. Shelves of old autobiographies and music theory books. There were speakers stacked from floor to ceiling, and the whole right side of the store was jam packed with basses and guitars. The back corner had a few keyboards and a drum set, but plenty of catalogues to pick even more instruments from. There were cases of drumsticks and guitar picks and strings. The middle of the store had tables full of incense, candles and interesting home goods. There were tables where local artists sold jewelry, art pieces and furniture. It was full to the brim, most shelves rising way up to the ceiling. Most needed a ladder to reach the top. The basement had a sound studio with even more equipment set up to be used to record, or to test out.

Levi had inherited the place from his father, who had built up quite a legendary roster of friends over his years. The shop was just off Front Street on the main drag of Traverse City. Levi’s father had made a name for himself as a great host to bands looking to escape to northern Michigan to hole up in cabins and write albums. Levi continued the tradition and took it a step further by buying the space next door and turning it into a club with live music on the weekends.

If you were lucky, you could catch some super huge bands playing for only about 100 people in the dark side room of The Edge.

“You bastards finally made it!” Levi called out as he came sauntering out of the back room. Levi looked the exact same as the last time the boys had seen him. Tanned skin from his days paddle boarding and hiking along the Lake Michigan shore, sandy blonde hair that was brighter in the summer, perpetual 5-o-clock shadow because he just couldn’t be bothered to shave, shell necklace around his neck, light wash jeans low on his hips with the same old cowboy boots he’d been wearing since the boys were 12.

“Is that grey hair I see Levi?” Josh leaned forward with an exaggerated squint. Levi laughed, snagging Josh’s head to give him a noogie.

“I may be older than you punks by a few years, but I’m not greying yet.” Levi released Josh from his headlock and gave him a shove.

“I’d say 37 is more than a few years older than us, grandpa.” Sam snarked.

“You’re makin me regret extending my hospitality, kid.”

Jake felt himself relax fully for the first time in a really long time. It was just like old times. Exactly what the boys needed.

“Welcome back dudes. I’m surprised I’m still cool enough for you Rockstar types.” Levi crossed his legs and leaned back against the front counter.

“We’ll never be too cool for The Edge. This place will always be way cooler than we could ever be.” Danny piped up, walking forward to wrap Levi in a hug.

“It’s been too long man.” Levi commented as he smacked Danny on the back.

“We know.” Sam said “Way too fuckin long.” He hugged Levi next. Josh and Jake followed up with hugs next. The room was heavy with a tinge of melancholy. Old friends who had missed each other finally reunited.

“Well, have you guys been to the house yet?” Levi stepped around the counter and started pouring four cups of the famous nasty coffee.

“Yeah we dropped our bags off before we headed into town.” Danny spoke up.

“Isn’t it sweet?” Levi asked enthusiastically.

“It’s wicked man. Thanks so much for getting that set up for us.” Josh grinned as he snagged a cup off the counter.

The house was a mid century modern cabin right on the east bay shore. It came equipped with a huge garage studio, front deck and a dock out into the bay. Levi had bought the house in foreclosure and along with help from a bunch of locals (in exchange for beer of course) they turned the house into a perfect getaway for any artists looking to come take a break up north. The place had five bedrooms and three bathrooms with a giant living room with overstuffed couches and velvet chairs. The walls were covered in art and the shelves were full to bursting with plants. It was a kaleidoscope of colors and textures, with mix matched rugs and lamps. It was Levi’s pride and joy.

“I’m so glad you guys like it.” Levi smiled even bigger as he passed coffees to the rest of the boys. “Once you’re a little more settled, feel free to send me a list of equipment you want me to set up downstairs and you can start coming in whenever to work. But also, I think you should probably take a week or two off first. You all look about two seconds away from collapsing.”

“Yeah we’re pretty fuckin beat dude. But we’ll send you a list ASAP.” Jake said, taking a burning sip of the coffee. It singed his nerve endings and he couldn’t have been happier about it.

Levi opened his mouth to speak again, when a voice filtered through the window to the loft above the store.

“Yo Levi!” the person shouted “Can you please get off your fuckin ass and pick music to play? I know Wednesdays are your day to pick but if you take forever I’m just gonna put on whatever I want and you can suck it.”

All four boys' heads snapped up to the window to the loft, but whoever was up there couldn’t be seen. All they could see was that the loft had clearly gotten a makeover. What used to be an upper level where Levi stored surplus supplies now looked like it had a plush velvet couch, lava lamps and plants in it.

“Alright alright! I’ll get on it.” Levi called back up, shaking his head and chuckling to himself as he walked toward the central sound system behind the counter to scroll through Spotify playlists.

“Who the fuck is that and what have you done to the loft?” Josh asked, hopping up to sit on the counter.

“That would be the very best thing that’s ever fallen into my lap. A.k.a my new store and venue manager Maven. She moved back to the area after living in Hollywood for a few years managing bands and she completely changed my life. We finally have consistent stock, a longstanding line up at the club and I have had the time to start photography again. Truly a godsend, if not occasionally a pain in my ass. She turned the loft into a breakroom of sorts. There’s a couch and table up there now. She practically lives up there sometimes.”

“Damn she must be some woman if she finally got you to get your shit together with that club.” Sammy piped up.

“She’s hellfire, I’ll tell yah that.” Levi chuckled, finally hitting play on a playlist. The first bars of Surfin USA by the Beach Boys came on the surround system and matching groans came out of Jake downstairs and Maven upstairs.

“Not this shit again!” Maven yells. Jake chuckled to himself. Hellfire indeed.

“It’s my day to pick so suck it!” Levi called back before faux stage whispering to the boys “I mostly just play this to piss her off.”

Levi clapped his hands together once “Well boys, It’s close enough to five o'clock and I owe you a beer. Let’s head over to Little Fleet for some grub and beers and we can catch up.”

Josh grimaced as he sucked down the last bit of his coffee before lobbing the empty cup into the trash at the end of the counter. “You still make shit coffee Levi.”

“It’s the one thing I wouldn’t let Maven fix.” Levi said with a grin as all five men exited out the back door.

~0~

The boys took a week to relax, as per Levi’s request. They spent the days hiking the shore, kayaking and drinking beer around the fire. It had been way too long since they’d done this. The release of The Battle at Garden’s Gate had been exhilarating and the fans' response had been everything they’d hoped for. People seemed to love the album and they were all so proud. But with press interviews and touring, they hadn’t gotten more than a day or two to relax at a time. And they certainly hadn’t gotten a chance to get back to their favorite old haunts in years.

They stopped by the store almost every morning for a cup of coffee strong enough to jumpstart their hearts. Sometimes Levi joined them on their escapades, and sometimes he stayed behind to help out at the store. The boys spent a few afternoons sifting through albums and strumming on some of Levi’s vintage guitars.

Mostly they caught up on each other's lives. The boys recounted their more personal lives that happened outside the coverage of the album and Levi talked about the past few years of his life in Traverse City. Levi told them all about Maven and how she was practically his little sister. They laughed. They drank. They had a blast.

The boys noticed Levi was a little on edge occasionally, typically when they heard someone shuffling upstairs or equipment moving around in the backroom of the shop. They assumed it was Maven but weren’t sure, since they had yet to see her in the flesh. A week from their arrival they were all sitting in lawn chairs in the alley behind the store, smoking cigs and drinking their coffee when Sam finally asked.

“So, why haven’t we met your precious Maven yet? Hiding her from us or something?”

Levi shifted a bit in his chair. “Um..” he coughed out a laugh. “I am actually. Yes. But it’s the other way around, I’m hiding you from her.”

“Afraid she’ll fan-girl or something?” Josh commented as he ashed his cigarette.

“In… a sense.” Levi coughed. “But in quite the opposite way you’re imagining.”

“She’s a fan then?” Sammy piped up.

“She loves your music. A lot.” Levi sniffed and coughed again. “It’s a real safe haven for her. When she’s having a bad day I catch her upstairs laying on the floor smoking a J with sound cancelling headphones blasting your albums as loud as she can.”

“Exactly how it’s meant to be enjoyed. With a joint in hand.” Jake chimes in.

“Yeah..” Levi toes the asphalt a bit with his boots, but doesn’t continue.

“Soooo” Sammy drawls “Why can’t we meet her? We’re no stranger to super fans. I’m sure she’s cool.”

“Um, well. It’s a bit complicated.” Levi heaves a sigh before flicking his cigarette butt into the coffee canister at the center of their little circle. “I suppose I can trust you guys. You’re friends. Do you remember the huge lawsuit that the band Undercover Heart went through last year? The one about the um” He coughs again, “Rape of one of their staff members by the lead singer Ryan?”

“Yes. That shit was horrific man.” Danny spoke up. “I read all the details I could. They kept the poor girl's identity private but goddamn I felt so bad for her. She was a badass for filing that suit though.”

“Yeah. She was.” Levi breathed. “So, this is strictly off record and if you repeat this to anyone I will skin you all alive, famous rock stars be damned.”

“Jesus Levi.” Jake said.

“It was her.” Levi choked out. “Maven. That’s why she ran back from Hollywood and ended up here. That dude messed her up and she just… she struggles with meeting famous bands now. You know how many people cycle through this joint writing stuff. She just… has a really fuckin hard time with it sometimes. Particularly bands she likes. I think it’s because once you meet someone, and in her case, discover how much of a monster they can be, their music isn’t… safe anymore.”

“Fuck.” Jake said, flicking his cigarette into the canister.

“Well I feel terrible for joking about her being a fangirl.” Josh mutters.

“She just genuinely loves you guys a lot. I never really told her I was an old friend because I didn’t want her to be worried about y’all stopping by. I just know that if she knows you’re here she’ll take off and avoid coming by the shop as much as she can and not only do I need her here, but I think she needs the safety of the shop too. I didn’t want to wreck it.” Levi sighs again. “I know she’ll find out you’re here eventually, it’s inevitable. I just was a coward and didn’t want to break the news to her.”

“She was a pretty well known band manager wasn’t she?” Danny asks. “She like… completely made Undercover Heart what it was. Before they hired her they were slated to be a one hit wonder but she hauled them into relevancy basically by her will alone.”

“Yeah. She basically built that man's career for him. She gave him everything, and he took everything from her. If I ever see the man I’m liable to get my ass thrown in prison.” Levi mutters.

“I’ll help.” Danny says immediately.

All five sit in silence for a few minutes, smoking the last of their cigarettes. When they’d all finished, they stood and stretched to head back inside the shop.

“So yeah. Anyway, If you see her that’s fine, just… well now you have context for… her.” Levi says as he yanks open the door.

A few steps into the back hallway, Levi suddenly halts, causing all four boys to nearly bash into each other. The front door to the shop had crashed open and there were footsteps stomping across the store toward the front desk.

“Listen Levi,” Maven’s tense voice carried down the back hall. “I know Wednesdays are usually your day for music but I’m having an absolute shit fucking day so I’m playing Greta all day and there’s absolutely nothing you can fucking do about it, kapeesh?”

The very opening chords of Edge of Darkness scratch through the speakers after she finishes her sentence and the boys all exchange a slightly amused look, grins spread on all of their faces.

“Kapeesh.” Levi calls out to her. He spins and silently nods to the boys to head toward the back door. The boys attempt to be as quiet as they can as they creep toward the door.

“Also, Levi?” Maven calls again. Everyone halts in their tracks. “You said there was a band coming in soon. Are they here yet? Do you need me to set up the backroom?”

“Uh, yeah they’re here.” Levi squeaks. All five men share nervous looks. “They’re uh… up at the house.” He cringes at his lie. “I’m getting an equipment list from them today and then you can get started.

“Cool cool.” Maven calls back. “Do you think I’ll like their stuff?”

“Uh. Yeah.” Levi grins then. “I think you will.”

“Wicked.” Maven calls back.

All five men repress giggles as they skedaddle out the back door and into the alley.

~0~

The next morning the boys wake up to a group text from Levi.

COME BY THE SHOP ASAP. COME IN BACK DOOR. HEAD DOWN THE STAIRS TO THE BOOTH. BE AS QUIET AS YOU CAN.

A weird request, but they did as they were told. They all piled into the SUV they had rented and headed to the shop. Danny peeled open the back door as quietly as he could, and Sammy opened the door to the stairs. They tiptoed down and through the door at the end of the stairs that opened into the booth of a sound studio. Levi sat in front of all the mixing boards with a cup of coffee to his lips. He glanced over at them and softly said “coffees on the table.”

“Why the weird text?” Jake asked.

“Because of that.” Levi responded softly, pointing through the dark glass into the soundstage.

The sound stage was littered with mismatched rugs, and a few milk crates that doubled as tables. There was a gorgeous seafoam green drum set toward the back wall and stands full of various guitars and basses. Along the left wall was a piano and a Mellotron set up exactly to the specifications Sam sent over. However, with all these beautiful instruments to look at that would normally catch their eye, it was the woman sitting on stool in the center, cradling a dark purple Fender guitar that made Jake stop in his tracks.

Maven, Jake had to guess that’s who it was, was wearing checkered distressed pants, with a ripped up old band t-shirt cropped at her ribs, revealing a sliver of the rounded part of her stomach. Over top she was wearing an orange leopard print cardigan that ran down to her thighs. Around her neck was a series of long necklaces, and her wrists were adorned with interlacing leather bands.

She was plucking out a melody with her eyes closed, rocking back and forth on the stool. Jake had seen countless numbers of people playing the guitar before. On the road, in the studio, studying old masters on YouTube. There was nothing overly special about the way she was sitting or playing, but he felt a little bit like he couldn’t breathe.

“She never fuckin plays anymore man.” Levi whispered. “It felt like magic hearing music coming out of the basement this morning. I just felt like you should see it.”

The melody she was playing was sad. Haunting is a better way to put it, and Jake couldn’t look away. Not even when Sammy placed a cup of burning hot coffee into his hands. She was moving her head along with her playing, the strands of her dark messy hair shaking back and forth. The group watched in silence as she played out the riff a few times, Levi cranked the volume of the mics in the space and they could hear her humming softly.

“She has a strong presence.” Josh murmured.

Maven suddenly stopped. Everyone froze as she heaved a sigh and stood from the stool to put the guitar back on it’s rack.

“You in there Levi?” Maven said then. The boys still didn’t move a muscle. Jake’s head was spinning, having finally seen the face that went with the voice he’d heard in the loft for a week. She was beautiful. He couldn’t even really put his finger on why, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Even seeing her through the thick dark glass of the studio.

Levi hit the button to the mic in the booth and responded “Yah.” He paused before adding. “Sounded good.”

Maven snorted in a self-deprecating way and said “Thanks.”

Levi hit the mic button again and said “You should play more.”

“Don’t push it Levi.” Maven snapped back. Levi released the button to his mic and let out a heavy sigh. “Can you check some levels on the lines for me? I think I have everything pretty good but I want to make sure before they get here today.”

“Sure.” Levi replied.

Maven pulled the amp cord out of the Fender she had been playing on and plugged it into another guitar, one more similar to the guitars that Jake regularly used while they wrote.

“Are we looking for a punk or a rock-y sound?” Maven asked.

“Um.” Levi hesitated. “Rock. Their sound is like…” He tossed a small smile over his shoulder at the boys. “Like Greta’s actually.”

“Dope. I hope they’re not just copying the boys. They’ve got a mellotron in here and everything.” The boys smiled. She pounded out a few chords on the guitar. “Good?”

Levi looked over at Jake for confirmation. Jake, who still had not taken his eyes off Maven, nodded.

“Yeah, that should be good for raw sound. They can play with stuff too. They’re a pretty well educated bunch.” Levi called back.

“Thank god.” Maven snorted. “Not like that indie punk bunch you booked last month who needed me to do fucking all their sound mixing for them.”

“Maven, I don’t think they kept asking you down here because they need help with their sound.”

Maven just rolled her eyes at that.

They repeated the process with each instrument, Levi silently asking for confirmation from the respective Greta member until they were sure the sound lines were all functioning properly.

“Great work kid.” Levi called into the studio.

“Ew don’t call me kid. I’m a 27 year old woman.” Maven called back.

Levi chuckled. “You’re a kid to me.”

“Whatever.” Maven muttered. “I’m gonna go take a walk along the beach. Smoke a little. Text me if they need me.”

“Will do.” Levi called back. The boys all tensed, looking for places to hide, or to run up the stairs and back into the alley. Luckily, Maven took the back door out of the studio and up another hallway instead.

“Well boys, it’s all you.” Levi said. “Text if you need anything.”

Sam piped up and said “Yeah actually, can you pick my brother’s jaw up off the floor?”

“Jake see pretty lady play guitar and Jake brain break.” Josh teased.

“You guys suck.” Jake grumbled.

Levi cackled. “I thought you’d like her.”

~0~

Maven walked along the coast of the bay and absentmindedly smoked a joint. It was an overcast and drizzly day which meant there was no one around, which she preferred anyway. She was feeling on edge. The drizzle was very slowly building a small sheen of water on her arms and hair, but she didn’t mind. The cool water and gentle breeze combination was perfect.

Maven sat her butt down in the sand and stared out at the waves. She normally wore headphones on her walks, her world was a near constant stream of music, but she had opted for silence today.

Levi was being weird. He was edgy around her all week, sending her out every morning for tasks and disappearing without saying where he was going around 4:30 every day. She had come to the conclusion that whatever band was in town this week was a pretty big name. Or big enough that he was nervous about her being around them. She sighed. She hated when he tiptoed around her. Maven didn’t blame him. When she first started working at the shop she had had a couple pretty bad PTSD episodes that had scared the shit out of him. She owed him everything for staying with her, talking her down and making sure she was fed and had water when she got into one of her states.

Levi was her best friend, to put it mildly. He cared for her, kept her safe and in return she busted her ass at his store making sure they had the best products, the best shows and that their artist getaway was something that people would go back and tell their friends about. She loved Levi like an older brother, and he cared for her like his little sister. She would forever be grateful to whatever power in the universe made her stumble into The Edge two years ago.

She had been high out of her mind, as she had been most days after she came running back to Michigan with her tail between her legs, and Levi had been struggling with an amp in the shop. She had walked in, spotted his struggle and didn’t even say a word to him, just walked over and fixed the wiring so that it was functional again. Levi had looked up from where he sat on the floor and said “You don’t happen to need a job do you?”

The rest was essentially history. It only took two months of seeing him every single day, and him not letting her sour moods go by unnoticed, for her to spill her guts over some bourbon one night. About Ryan and Undercover Heart and how badly the whole situation fucked her up. How after she’d recorded her testimony she’d boarded the next flight to Grand Rapids and hightailed it up north. She came crash landing into Traverse City because she’d always loved it as a kid, and figured it would be a great place to start over. The small town she’d grown up in had too many people who knew her.

He was extra careful with bands for a while. Never letting her be alone in a room with too many male band members, and carefully vetting everyone who came through. Eventually she told him off about treating her like a porcelain doll and he backed down a bit, giving her free reign over lots of the equipment set ups and giving her plenty of hours in the shop by herself. She was happy to do so, so Levi could focus on fixing up the artist house and starting his photography again.

But he was still very gentle with her sometimes, and she’d always love him for it even when it pissed her the fuck off.

Once she’d smoked the joint down to the roach, she tucked the end into her pocket. It was sacrilegious to litter near the lake. It was too precious to be fucked with. She meandered back toward the shop. Her plan was to grab her bag and head back to let her Pitbull, Stacy, out for a walk and pee. The girl had been cooped up all morning and Maven felt bad.

She threw her whole body against the front door, as the latch often stuck, and the loud sound of the chimes clanged in the empty space. She rolled her eyes. Of course Levi left the shop unattended and unlocked. It was Traverse City, no one was gonna rob them, but what if someone wanted to buy something?

She was humming softly to herself as she made her way around the edge of the counter and plopped down on the stool by the register. She whipped out her phone to ask Levi where he was. She had the message halfway typed when the door behind her, the one that led to the staff restroom, popped open.

“You know, crime is especially low in this town but that doesn’t mean someone wouldn’t come in here and try to steal your precious coffee maker.” She tossed over her shoulder.

“Oh.” Was all that came back. It was decidedly not Levi’s voice. Maven spun back quickly.

“Sorry I…” But that’s as far as she got. She was suddenly face to face with Jake Kizska and all thoughts quickly left her brain.

They both stared at each other for a long moment. Maven couldn’t quite figure out why he looked just as shocked to see her as she was to see him. He also almost looked afraid for some reason that Maven couldn’t figure out.

He was dressed in an outfit she’d seen him wear plenty of times. A black button up, half unbuttoned, loose fitting light wash jeans and a pair of well worn boots. His wrists were full of bracelets and his hair was longer than the last time she’d seen footage of their concerts, well past his collarbones at this point.

“Hi.” Jake finally broke the silence. “I’m Jake.” He reached out his hand for a handshake.

“I know.” Maven replied, and then coughed. Why did you say that you freak?

Suddenly the front door bell chimed again, and Maven whipped her head to see Levi coming in the front door. She stood abruptly from her stool, skirted around Jake’s outstretched hand, and out from behind the counter. She scooped up her leather satchel on her way.

She headed straight at Levi. He glanced over his shoulder and saw an apologetic Jake looking forlorn and lowering his hand back to his side.

“Oh hey Maven-”

“Hey dumbass, don’t leave the store unattended again. I’m going home to check on Stacy. Probably won’t be back for the rest of the day.” Maven spit as she stormed past him toward the front door.

“Maven wait-”

But she was already outside, the hinges bringing the heavy wood crashing back into the frame. The chime of the bells rang through the space.

“Sorry.” Jake muttered.

“Not your fault. I knew she’d find out eventually. Right now she’s probably just pissed I didn’t tell her. Which she has every right to be.” Levi sighed.

After a few more beats of silence Jake spoke again. “Who’s Stacy?”

Levi huffed a laugh. “That would be her Pitbull.”

“Oh.” Jake said again. He felt crazy because his brain couldn’t come up with anything else to say. She was prettier up close. She smelled like the Lake and weed and sandalwood. He really wished she’d taken his hand. He shook his head trying to find his brain in it somewhere.

The other three boys came clambering up the stairs and into the store. They all looked between Levi, who was still standing in the middle of the shop, and Jake behind the counter.

“Are you two playing freeze tag or something?” Sam quipped.

“Jake met Maven.” Levi responded. The boys' heads whipped toward Jake.

“And… I’m guessing it… went well?” Danny questioned.

Levi finally walked back toward the counter. “She left for the day. This is on me. I should have told her y’all were here.” He snagged his keys from below the counter and walked toward the front door to lock up. “I’m closing early, boys. Let’s go get a beer.”

“Kowabunga baby.” Josh said with a grin.

~0~

Maven sat curled up on her velvet couch, Stacy was her little spoon. There was incense burning, a bottle of wine open on the side table and a lit joint in the ashtray. She had changed into a giant t-shirt and boxer shorts. The soft sounds of John Denver playing off her record player.

However, none of these things were easing her mind.

She was pissed, mostly. At herself. At Levi. She was pissed he didn’t tell her they were coming. She was pissed that he felt he couldn’t tell her. She was pissed that she had acted like a freak in front of Jake.

The anxiety was an endless pit in her stomach. She couldn’t go back there tomorrow. She couldn’t see any of those people. Not when she felt like this.

She whipped out her phone and quickly shot a message to Levi, before chugging her whole glass of red wine and snagging the joint out of the ashtray.

~0~

Levi’s phone dinged on the table where all of the guys sat drinking beers and chatting. Levi glanced at it and quickly picked it up when he saw her name.

“It’s Maven.” He said.

“What did she say?” Jake asked, sitting up a bit in his chair.

“Fuck.” Levi said, tossing his phone on the table, still unlocked.

All four boys leaned in to read the screen.

CASHING IN ALL MY VACATION DAYS. I’LL BE OUT FOR TWO WEEKS.

“Fuck indeed.” Josh said, pounding back the rest of his beer.

#jake gvf #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #greta fic #jake fic #gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta fan fleet fic #peaceful army

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abigail-nicole · 3 years ago

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tgcf liveread 11

being part 11 of live-readthrough of TGCF Tian Guan Ci Fu Heaven Official's Blessing, officially licensed in english translation here, buy it. the twitter thread I kept returning to because keeping memories of the first time you read something you love is important! You never get the chance to read a book for the first time except once. this is a tautology but also like, savor it, which I did with this livetweet. originally tweeted 4/2/2020:

bring down the tax brackets of the whole Neighborhood he xuan. Lolol

I love Ruoye so much

I have very little to say a lot the action scenes here except it’s so lovely to see hualian supporting each other in battle

Ahhhhh I had feelings about qi rong is he finally gone?????? No?????????!!!!!

Im so invested but so sleepy anyway TOMORROW with Chapter 229 Adroit Dice. I also love reading things in translation because when’s the last time you read the word adroit? Translating is fascinating for word choice & authorial intent. Anyway hualian forever gnite

But in general, in tgcf: xie lian is like *shocked emoji* and hua cheng is like *smirk emoji*

A) hua cheng dragging all the martial gods followed Immediately by B) shi qingxuan dragging pei ming specifically

Boyfriend & Uncle united in dislike of blockhead friend

this IS ominous, especially since it’s the first time in 878990000000 words that hua cheng ever rolled poorly, and a very clever way to signal to the audience that Shit’s About To Get Real

The phrase: “Mu Qing was certainly behaving oddly”

my brains: RED ALERT: PROB JUN WU INDISGUISE DO NOT TRUST!!!!!!!!!!!!

this is another great signifier that Shit’s About To Go Down, & emotionally, because all our associations of E’ming (& therefore Hua Cheng) being upset are emotional not physical danger. because there is so little that could physically endanger Hua Cheng

also everytime xie lian pets e’ming im subconsciously screaming BUT EVERYONES WATCHING ARE YOU REALLY GONNA TIUCH HIS DICK RIGHT HERE LOLOL “strokes the hilt” mxtx did this on purpose

Feng Xin being like “ugh stop being so in love ugh gross”

wait....the 33 heavenly officials who mocked xie lian in book 4... SAME 33 HUA CHENG DEFEATED??? He takes carrying petty grudges to a new level i LOVE it

Hua Cheng shattering a sword with one hand: sexy

Everyone blaming mu qing immediately: hilarious

Xie Lian deciding not to solve all his problems with self harm & suicide: that’s GROWTH

also lol @ feng xin here

Using dead bodies as surfboards on a river of lava: creative, structually unsound, implausible, & also a hilarious visual

Hua Cheng and unconditionally supporting his partner I’m melting into the floor

An endless broken bridge over a river of lava is both metaphorically & literally doing a lot of heavy lifting here

Lolol @ xie lian roasting mu qing TWICE here

This is an interesting bit of insight. Most of this is very Shown Not Told in the text and this is the first time Xie Lian has acknowledged these things aloud to us. the Xian Le trio relationship taking on all cadences and nuances over a thousand years, every friend/enemy/annoyance/worship/dislike permutation

oh no n I’m having Feelings about Mu Qing!!

feeeeeelings !!!!!! also the phrase “bones dissolving into air” v cool

Ruoye, who before had been able to stretch exactly as long as needed.... still stretches exactly as long as needed to CREATE DRAMATIC TENSION Lololol

I really thought there’d be more sex in this book. Like........any sex

Inner sailor scouts here 600% mu qing & feng xin as mars & venus

soft <3<3<3 melting

HEART IN THROAT

HUA CHENG MISSING???? IN DANGER???? INJURED????

Xie Lian holding his breath so he won’t have to hear how close he is to crying oh my god my tiny heart cant take it

Mu Qing & Feng Xin commenting offhand about how much xie lian loves hua cheng makes me explode into silver butterflies

ANIME FIGHT ANIME FIGHT WHAT A BEAUTIFUL ANIME FIGHT!!!

Hua Cheng, the only one who could’ve been a god & chose to be a ghost king. What a hipster. Heaven is too mainstream, too country club for Our Goth King

Literally they got the final boss down to 50% health and it changed forms & restored its HP

well OKAY FINE EXCUSE ME WHILE I GO PICK MY HEART OUT OF THE SHREDDER

"The one basking in infinite glory is you; the one fallen from grace is also you. What matter is 'you', and not the state of you. No matter what's happened in the past, I will never leave you. You can tell me anything." .... "You told me this yourself."

A LOT OF WORK DONE BY THESE TWO SENTENCES HERE!!!!

IVE NEVER BEEN SO EXCITED FOR A CHAPTER TITLE

my BABY my CHILD my FAVORITE WEAPON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! RUOYE!!!!!!!!!

This is the best anime series finale I’ve ever seen

BIG tw cw for abusive dad jun wu

.......continued next time on tgcf liveread part 12

#tgcf #tgcf liveread #The one basking in infinite glory is you; the one fallen from grace is also you. What matter is 'you' and not the state of you.

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hepalien · 4 years ago

Text

Shrunkyclunks (Modern Bucky/Cap Steve) Fic Rec

Hate Sex & Hair Protocol by @maddiewritesstucky - Mature, 1.8k

SHIELD Agent Bucky, UST, Enemies to Lovers (in Steve’s head), Humor

They’re all full of shit, Steve decides.

His team don’t have a clue what they’re talking about, running their mouths about the way he and Bucky look at each other; the tension that seems to be at a constant near-snapping point between them.

'It’s called annoyance' Steve wants to yell in each of their faces, loud and one by one. It’s the pain of having to exist every day in close proximity with someone who drives you out of your fucking mind.

---

In which Steve discovers that ire and desire may just exist side by side in his brain.

Stop interrupting my grinding series by @rohkeutta - Teen, 2.5k

Nurse Bucky, Wrong Number, Fluff, Humor

“I tried to call Sam,” Captain America says, bewildered. He’s sprinting like Usain Bolt and doesn’t sound even a little out of breath. Fucker. “Who’re you?”

“Someone who’s watching you live on TV,” Bucky tells him as the tiny patriotic figure on the screen takes the turns like he instructed. Bucky should probably be a lot more freaked out about this, but honestly? After a tour in the Middle East and six years as a nurse in New York, even this isn’t enough to ruffle him. One sees a lot of shit in the ER. “Also, you better hang up now, that thing is behind the next bend.”

“Uh, okay,” Captain America says. “Thanks?”

“Whatever,” Bucky says, disconnects the call and turns the TV off to get ready for his shift.

Save a Horse, Ride a Captain by @galwednesday - Teen, 2.7k

War Vet Bucky, Meet Cute, Fluff, Humor, Modern Howlies

Bucky tapped him on the shoulder, swaying back and forth a little as he waited for the man to turn around. “Hello,” he said, and then promptly forgot what else he was going to say, because this guy was fucking beautiful. “Wow. Good face.”

Two of the guy’s friends, a man wearing a suit that fit so well it had to be bespoke and a man with a cute little gap between his front teeth, started cracking up. The petite redhead sitting next to them cocked her head to the side and pulled her phone out of her handbag. Beautiful Face just looked kind of pained, so Bucky redirected. He was a gentleman. He could take a hint. No hitting on beautiful guys who were uncomfortable with that sort of thing, no matter how lickable their jawlines were.

“Hello,” he repeated, doing his best to mind his manners. “I’m very sorry to bother you. Can I have a piggy-back ride?”

You Make My Heart Skip A Beet by @musette22 - Teen, 3.8k

Chef Bucky, POV Outsider, Fluff, Humor

“I made soda bread.”

Steve lets out the 6’2” supersoldier equivalent of a squeak. “Oh, I love soda bread,” he says eagerly, rolling forward on the balls of his feet like he does when he gets excited. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up.”

The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”

more under the cut

Cafe Au Écoute by @littlesystems - Teen, 3.8k

Coffee Shop AU

No matter where Steve goes, there's always the chance that he'll overhear a conversation about himself - or rather, Captain America. This coffee shop is no different. The fact that he keeps eavesdropping well past the point of plausible deniability is another matter entirely.

#TweetMeDaddy by StarSpangled - Teen, 4.1k

SHIELD Employee Bucky, Misunderstandings, Crack, Humor

Coulson, for his part, stares up at Bucky with such a betrayed look of frozen horror that Natasha actually goes the extra step and presses another button, capturing the moment and airdropping the photograph to her phone for posterity. When he speaks, his voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. “Why…?” He swallows and starts again, trying for some semblance of normality. “...Why would you tweet something like that?!”

“If you must know, sir,” and somehow he manages to make ‘sir’ come out with the same inflection most people reserve for ‘motherfucking son of a bitch’, “it’s because I have a difficult time doing my job when my job involves monitoring the man with the best fucking ass in the United States of America.” He slowly lowers himself back into his seat until he’s at eye level, making extreme eye contact with Coulson until Coulson turns away to make mortified eye contact in Natasha’s general direction through the one-way glass. Natasha would take another picture, if she weren’t too busy catching Steve’s red-faced sputtering. “Sometimes, I vent to my Twitter followers. Sometimes, it’s about hot men with washboard abs. Can I go now, or do you need a graphic description of how I pleasure myself at night?”

at first chance i'd take the bed warmed by the body by @spacebuck - Explicit, 8.2k

YouTuber Bucky

This close, Steve can see exactly how beautiful his hands are. He’s never really noticed before, or at least he’s never really had a reason to notice, but the man’s hands are large, tanned like he works outside all day. There’s an endearing callus on the heel of one of his palms, and Steve can’t quite work out when calluses became endearing.

Steve pauses the video. Swallows hard. Casts his eyes around for anything that’ll keep his mind off the hands on his screen, off the words inked into those hands, the delicate shape of a bird’s wing, the curling edge of a vine.

He looks down. The name of the channel is right there, blaring the man’s name right into Steve’s brain until it feels like he’s known it all along.

Bucky Barnes.

OR: the one where Bucky's a youtuber who solves puzzles on camera, and steve's smitten and horny

Came with my cool (I dropped it) by @liionne - Teen, 9.2k

Yoga Instructor Bucky

"When you said I need to loosen up, I didn't think you meant literally."

"I meant it every way. Mentally, emotionally, and physically." Natasha says, and thrusts a yoga mat at him.

there once was a diamond by bloobeary - Teen, 11.3k

Fluff, Thanksgiving

"You," Becca seethes, and hits him with a wooden spoon. "Could have told me," Hits him again. "You were dating Captain America." Final hit, Bucky laughs. He supposes he deserves it, giving her no more information than the fact he was bringing his boyfriend to Thanksgiving dinner at her house and then showing up with Steve.

Salt by littleblackfox @thelittleblackfox - Mature, 12k

Bakery AU

The cinnamon roll is gone in four bites. Four indecent, jaw-unhinging bites, and Steve sucks the last traces of lemon and icing from his fingers with a low, throaty sound of satisfaction. He glances up at Bucky, who is leaning against the counter and watching him with avid fascination.

“Um…” Steve says around his index finger. There’s still a little icing on the bed of his fingernail, and he stops trying to work it off with his tongue.

“You know those movies where the girl eats an eclair or something, and it’s really, like, sexually charged?” Bucky asks.

Steve pulls his finger out of his mouth. He’s never seen that kind of movie, but the thought of Bucky eating an eclair is certainly… well, it lingers. “Uh?”

“Yeah, well that was the exact opposite.” Steve scowls, and Bucky cackles gleefully. “You are something else, Steve.”

Leg Day by Brokenpitchpipe - Explicit, 12.1k

Gym Thot Bucky

“So talk to him,” Sam says.

“I can’t,” Bucky groans. “I can’t, Sam, I. He just.” He fluffs his hair up and stares at Sam, distraught. “I want him to bench press me.”

“Okay, so it’s serious,” Sam interprets. “Got it."

(Or: The one where Sam is Bucky's long-suffering roommate, Bucky is a hot mess of a millennial, and Hot Steve spends far too much time on the Lat Pull-Down machine.)

Art Nouveau by voluptuous_panic - Explicit, 12.2k

Bartender Bucky, Tattooed & Pierced Bucky

Steve's on the worst date of his life. At least the bartender's cute.

much tattoo about nothing by @deisderium - Explicit, 14.5k

Tattoo Artist Bucky

Steve Rogers gets a lot of email requests, but never one like this: James Barnes wants to use his healing factor to practice tattoos.

Turns out tattoos give Steve boners.

No Wonder There's Panic in the Industry by sprinkle_of_cinnamon - Not Rated (I’d say Mature?), 20.5k

Stark Industries Intern Bucky, Team fic, Humor

In which Bucky Barnes and his BFF, Clint Barton, are NYU interns for Stark Media Group competing to be Pepper's favorite.

Or alternatively, the time Bucky assisted the P.A. team on the Steve Rogers piece and ended up (adopted) with a contact list full of Avengers.

Life of the Party by @aggressivewhenstartled - Explicit, 21.6k

Superhero Impersonator Bucky, Mistaken Identity

“You know, kids,” Steve heard from the backyard, “one of the most common threats a superhero has to face is inside an active volcano! We’re going to have to work on your evasion skills, so for the next five minutes, the floor is lava!” This was met by a sudden spike in both volume and pitch from the small children as they scrambled onto every raised surface they could find and immediately launched themselves right back off.

“I’ve never seen actual lava in my entire life,” Steve said, vaguely offended.

“You got a superhero impersonator for The Falcon’s niece’s birthday party,” Sam said, incredulous. “The Falcon, who is an actual superhero.”

Trust Enough by @geneticallydead - Explicit, 23.3k

Misunderstandings

“Saturday. Yeah, that’s good,” Steve says, and actually scuffs his shoe at the ground. Like a ridiculous shy superhero damsel. “Say eight? I live-“

“Yeah, big building with the A on it,” Bucky says, and can’t help a big stupid grin. Steve stares at him, looking a little dazed, and after their whole conversation it’s only now that Bucky’s brain catches up and realises Steve finds him quite attractive. So. Win for Bucky.

“Let me get your number,” Steve says finally, after they’ve stared stupidly at each other for about three hours, taking out his phone.

So they exchange numbers, and then Steve says he should go, and Bucky agrees, and they kind of stare at each other for a bit more, then Steve actually does go, but not before taking Bucky’s hand and squeezing it warmly in a way that makes Bucky want to shiver all over. Then Steve is gone, and Bucky is standing alone in the alley, grinning to himself.

Right up until the moment he remembers that Steve thinks Bucky is an escort he’s just hired.

Well fuck.

The Roommate by layersofart, Niitza - Teen, 28.6k

War Vet Bucky, Roommates AU, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Team fic

In which Steven G. Rogers, a.k.a. Captain America, gets a roommate. Who rapidly turns into his "roommate"—in the euphemistic sense of the word.

It takes SHIELD and the rest of the Avengers an absurd amount of time to notice.

Brooklyn Baby by sprinkle_of_cinnamon - Mature, 33.7k

Coffee Shop AU, Modern Howlies, Mistaken Identity, Team Fic

In which Bucky is just trying to live life and enjoy his unofficial official table at the obnoxiously hipster coffee shop but some guy named Steve stole his spot.

Or, the time that Bucky unintentionally befriended the Avengers and had no idea.

Never Talk to Strangers by mambo @whtaft - Teen, 40.4k

Grad Student Bucky, Slow Burn

Never Talk to Strangers: or; How a Forgotten Childhood Lesson Led Bucky Barnes to Appreciate Charlie Chaplin, Befriend an A.I., Slip on Soap Bubbles, Be Mistaken for a Succubus, and Try to Woo a Superhero.

Sinking Our Teeth In The Heart Of The Sun by fallendarlings @pressrestartwrites - Explicit, 102.8k

Single Dad Bucky, Kid Fic, Slow Burn, Domestic, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Steve has Autism

Bucky Barnes never intended to become a single father at 25. But life has always enjoyed kicking him while he's down and it's showing no signs of stopping. A chance meeting with a brick wall of a guy named Steve in the formula aisle of the grocery store leads to a friendship it seems like both of them need. If only Bucky could remember that's all they are- friends. If only Steve didn't slot into their lives so perfectly and look so good spoiling Bucky's daughter (and Bucky, despite his protests).

Oh, if only Steve didn't turn out to be Captain America.

Steve Rogers is wandering around a world that he doesn't fit into, fighting for a government that he doesn't trust, just because he doesn't know what to do with himself if he ever relaxes long enough to actually think about anything other than the next mission.

And then came Bucky Barnes and his newborn baby.

More recs

#stucky #stevebucky #stucky fic #stucky fic rec #shrunkyclunks #stucky fanfic #stucky fanfiction #steve x bucky #my stucky recs #fic tag #mine #fic rec #mcu fic #tumblr ate this the first time [my longest sigh ever]#i read art nouveau for the first time last week and I've been thinking about it ever since

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autumnleaves1991-blog · 5 years ago

Note

YOU ASKED FOR THIS

43 with Marcus Moreno

A/N: I asked for this but YOU’RE the one who told me about this evil plot! I hope you like it. Thanks for the request! Thank you for reading, reblogging, commenting, and liking!

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x F! Reader

Warnings: 18 + ONLY NSFW (Oral F! receiving, vibrators, multiple orgasms, some language, squirting, fluff)

My Masterlist

The Perfect Day

Missy reached into the back of the SUV for her backpack and sleeping bag, and you come around the end and open the trunk, the teen bounding over to you and taking the paper bag overflowing with snacks and carbonated drinks from your arms. She gives you a one-armed hug, and you kiss the top of her head. “Thanks, mom,” she smiles, “you’re the best!” She runs off, leaving you standing there, mouth open. You look around to see if anyone caught that before smiling to yourself.

You get situated behind the driver’s seat and click the button on your bracelet to call Marcus. He picks up on the second ring, “Hey honey, Missy, off at her friends, okay?” he grunts, and you look puzzled down at the watch on your wrist.

“Yeah. She is safely off at her friends. Where are you? Was that an explosion I just heard?”

“Oh yeah, that was just Lava Girl; she blew up a gas truck,” he says it so casually you laugh. “I should be finished up here, and then we can finally have our night alone. No kids.”

You sigh and pull onto the main road, and head towards the house. “You always say that, Marcus, but something with the heroics always comes up. I hope you don’t think I’m complaining; I know what you do is important; I just miss you.”

He lets out another grunt, “Honey, just let me finish this, and I swear I will go down on you until you cum at least three times.” You pull the car over with a screech, and his voice is concerned, “Honey, what was that? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you cough, “Yeah, I’m fine. You just can’t say those things to me while I’m driving Marcus!” He laughs and lets out a relieved breath.

“I’ll be home soon. And honey?” you let out a breathless yes, “leave the panties off.” He ends the call, and you sit in the vehicle as cars pass you by. Flipping on the radio and turning on the news channel, you pull back out into traffic. You follow along to the battle with the Heroics until you pull up to the house. Going upstairs into the bedroom and flipping on the TV to catch up. You watch as Marcus flies through the air, his arms bulging in the black t-shirt, katanas strapped to his back.

“And the Heroics keep the planet safe once again…” the voice of the announcer trails off, and you turn off the TV and strip, going into the shower and freshening up. When you come out, you pull on a silk nightgown and go to the kitchen to start dinner. Marcus always loaded up on carbs after a fight, and you knew he would be famished. You boil the water and stir the alfredo sauce, peeling the shrimp and seasoning them.

You don’t hear the door unlock or the boots trek across the floor. Letting out a yelp as gloved hands slide across your waist—the hard shell of the bulletproof vest pressing into your back. “Marcus,” you are breathless as his nose runs along the hollow of your neck and his hands dip lower below the hem of the nightie.

“Did you listen?” he coos, and you shiver as the leather of his gloves moves against your slick folds. “Ah yes, you did, good girl. He turns you in his arms, and you snake your arms around his waist as he kisses your lips passionately, consuming you. You hear the click of the stove and turn to see everything off. He leads you by the hand up the stairs to the bedroom. Flicking off the downstairs lights with a twitch of his finger.

He pushes you back, and you fall against the bed with an oof. “Take off your clothes,” his voice is deeper than usual, and you tremble to reach for the edge and to pull it over your head. His eyes take you in appreciatively, trailing over your breasts, tummy, and glistening cunt. “You are a work of art, honey.”

He drops to his knees, and you sit upon your elbows, watching him. His hand reaches out and pulls your ankle towards him and settles your thighs over his shoulders, eye level with your pussy. “I swore,” he places a soft kiss on one thigh and the other. “I swore at least three times,” your hands clench the sheets, and he licks a broad stripe up your folds. “Let’s go for five.”

Your head drops, and you let out a loud moan as he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. Moving slow and then fast until you are shaking beneath him. He takes pity and slides one finger inside the leather of his glove, pressing against your soaked folds. His mouth latching on to your clit and sucking it into his mouth. He spends the next hour between your legs sucking, fingering, and fucking you with his expert mouth. When you scream out the third orgasm, he finally drops your legs from his shoulders and leaves you panting.

But the moment is quickly forgotten as he walks over to the dresser and pulls out the vibrating wand. “Marcus,” you whimper, and he chuckles before dropping between your legs again.

“You have a couple more in you, right, honey?” He flicks the switch on the lowest setting and presses it to your clit. Your hips shoot off the bed, and he pushes them back down, smiling at you from between your legs. He’s still wearing his whole uniform, and you can’t help but admire how fucking sexy he is in the bulletproof vest and gloves. Your belly tightens, and he flicks the vibrator up higher until you are screaming his name, gushing all over the place.

When he moves his mouth down to your pussy and licks up your pleasure while he keeps the vibrator, you feel pleasure more intense than before and push his head away. Screaming in pleasure and hips lifting off the bed, you squirt all over the bulletproof vest; his hand replaces the vibrator with his hand and rubs your clit. You almost pass out from the overstimulation, and he notices hands coming off you and letting you calm down.

Your breathing is erratic, and your trembling so hard you are moving the bed. He stands up and goes to the bathroom and gets a warm washcloth coming back and cleaning up the mess between your legs. He tosses it in the laundry and strips down to his boxers, running downstairs, coming back with a bag of chips and a glass of water.

“Here,” he pulls back the sheets and moves you under them, pulling you close and handing you the water. Your voice is hoarse from screaming, and he kisses the top of your head. You share the bag of chips between you, and he sucks the seasoning from your fingers. “Are you okay?”

You chuckle, “more than okay, today has been pretty perfect.”

“Yeah? Did something else happen besides the five orgasms?” he teases, and you suddenly remember sitting up eagerly and smiling at him.

“Yes! Something really exciting happened! I dropped Missy off at the sleepover, and she...she called me Mom.” His eyes light up, and he kisses you softly, bringing you in for a hug.

“That’s fantastic, honey! She really loves you, almost as much as I do. You’ve been the piece we’ve been missing in our lives. I know you make my life better every single day. I love you so much.” You smile and kiss him softly.

“I love you too, Marcus Moreno.”

“Do you like my last name?” he asks out of the blue, and you pull away to look at him.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s a pretty basic last name baby, I don’t think I dislike any last name.”

“Would you want to have it too?” You sit up straighter and look at him before nodding slowly. His hand reaches over to the nightstand, and he pulls out a black velvet box. “I planned to do this a few weeks ago, but as you said, something with the Heroics always came up. Shit, I should get down on one knee,” he goes to stand, and you pull him back, tears streaming down your face.

“No, no, this is perfect. Do it here? Please…” he smiles and lets out a small laugh before clearing his throat.

“I love you, my mother loves you, and most importantly, my daughter loves you. You’ve filled the hole in our hearts and filled it with so much love and laughter. Will you do me the great honor of marrying me?”

“YES!” you shout and throw your arms around him; he pulls back and slides the ring onto your finger before pulling you in for a kiss. “Okay,” you giggle, “Now, this has been the perfect day.”

He falls back into the bed with you, entangling yourselves together as you fall deeper in love with your own personal hero.

Taglist: @josepedropascal @mrschiltoncat @mrsparknuts @ghostwiththemostbitch @zannemes @xjaywritesx @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @anetteaneta @lunarthoughts @aellynera @lucifer- @houseofthirst @phoenixhalliwell @chicken-ona-stick @agirllovespancakes @amberembers @theatricalbride @jedi-mando @lycheemi @idreamofboobear @aerolanya @rebelliouscat @demoncrypt1066 @goalpostnerd

#Marcus Moreno #Marcus Moreno x Reader #Female Reader #Autumn Writes #We can be heroes #We can be heroes fic #Pedro Pascal

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